


Broken Smiles, Broken Teeth

by DressTheSage



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bottom My Unit | Byleth, Brigid and Petra were NOT given the respect they deserve, Edelgard Von Hresvelg Did Nothing Wrong, F/F, Healthy Polyamory, I give the wyvern’s personalities, Mild/Occasional smut, Seteth/Phlegon (have fun parsing that damn tag out if you aint read this fic), Several characters are depicted as neurodivergent, Switch Catherine, The personality is they’re gay, Top Edelgard von Hresvelg, Trans Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Trans Catherine (Fire Emblem), Trans Female Character, Trans Marianne von Edmund, Trans Shamir Nevrand, Warning: references to sexual assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 42
Words: 401,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DressTheSage/pseuds/DressTheSage
Summary: How does the world recover from the death of a god? How does a single person recover from the death of their faith? How does a woman recover from the death of her entire family? Byleth Eisner, a Mercenary by trade and necessity, wakes up one night from a strange dream. She sees a vision of her own death at the hands of a lilac eyed woman, and speaks to a goddess she's never met before but who still greets her as a long lost friend. As she is pulled into a position training the future leaders of Fodlan she finds herself in the midst of a strange dance between herself, the disgraced daughter of House Charon, Catherine, and the revolutionary heir to the Adrestian throne, Edelgard von Hresvelg. As one partner’s fight for justice and another partner’s fall from grace draw their lives into chaos, how do they find a way to carry on? All the while an orphan who lost the brother she loved finds a mother in the woman who betrayed him, and an archer finds a strange sister in the daughter of her mentor, while a captive princess finds love and security in the hands of a songstress and a noblewoman who know chains as well as she does."One more chance to give and that's all I have, all I have left in my heart."
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Leonie Pinelli/ Marianne Von Edmund, Background relationships with serious plot importance, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary/Bernadetta von Varley, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth/Catherine, Flayn/Mercedes von Martritz/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Manuela Casagranda/Ladislava
Comments: 438
Kudos: 320





	1. Chapter 1: It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! One note I'm going to make at the start is that I'm making the decision as the writer to shift all of the student's ages one year older than in canon. While I don't intend to have the pairings get together right off the bat, I've always been a bit uncomfortable about how Edelgard is 17 at the start of the game, and I'd rather just avoid trying to navigate making it clear Byleth is not some grooming predator. So, everyone of the students at the academy is a year older than they were originally. I hope you enjoy the story!

Byleth propped herself up on a long, strange sword in the middle of the throne room across a plush red rug from a short, silver haired woman. The woman was clutching an axe that was the stuff of nightmares, its head seemingly made from misshapen bone. The red fabric of the drapes and lavish rugs did little to hide the blood covering the room. The bodies of dozens of armored soldiers covered the ground, their polished silver armor dulled by the dried viscera caked over it. They we’re not alone however. Scattered around the room was nearly a dozen or so other people, their clothing all distinct and varied, almost none of it seeming fit to be on an actual battlefield. A man with bright green hair lay dead on the ground next to a large wyvern, the color of his robes warped by the blood soaking them. Two women lay a few feet away from him, one atop the other as if trying to protect them. Though it had made little difference as both were filled with long silver arrows. One of them was wearing strangely cut clothes that looked to be made from leather and covered in beads, while the woman laid over her wore a long red gown. Another 7 bodies were splayed across the floor, one with long orange hair, another with it short and choppy. A blue haired man in armor and a young man in long green robes both lay dead on the ground, hands inches away from eachother as if reaching for help that would never come.

“It seems as though your path ends here, my teacher…” The silver haired woman said as she slowly walked towards Byleth. There was no joy in her voice, nor malice. The woman held no hatred in her eyes, just a grim, exhausted determination. “Please know I feel no joy in claiming this victory, but I must strike you down here, and now.” Her heavy footsteps stopped, ending right in front of Byleth, who turned her gaze up to stare at the horned woman, too exhausted to fear what was to come. “Right now, across the whole nation people are killing each other, Byleth. It has to end. If it doesn’t end here, then it will go on forever. Fódlan's future lies across your grave, and if that is the path I must walk than so be it.” Byleth felt a cold, calloused finger hook underneath her chin and lift her head up so she was staring into the woman’s tired lilac eyes. “I had wanted...so badly to walk with you, my love,” the woman paused as tears began building in the corner of her eyes before roughly pushing Byleth away. 

Byleth lay there, looking up as she heard a voice that was hers and yet at the same time not whisper. “El….Please….” But the axe tore into the side of her throat all the same.

Byleth’s eyes shot open as she sat upright, turning to her side as quickly as she could before violently expelling the contents of her stomach onto the smooth stone beneath her. Never before had a nightmare had such an intense effect on her. She stood up slowly, knees weak. The area around her however was just as unfamiliar as her dream had been. A large, seemingly endless stone-floored room, with a staircase leading up to a large throne, on top of which was draped a rather tired looking young girl, who’s hair was a similar shade of green to the man Byleth had seen next to the wyvern…..maybe? Things were starting to get muddled in her mind as she slowly regained her footing. Details seemed to blur a bit here and there, but this wasn’t the time to dwell on that. The young girl stared at her with a curious look in her eyes. 

“How did you ever manage to end up here again?...” Byleth looked at her, confused. “Well, no matter. It’s rather rude of you to interrupt my well-earned rest, very rude indeed. Now come to me, I wish to have a look at you. Something’s different this time….” As Byleth walked towards the strange girl a bit more light shone down on her. Looking down Byleth felt some relief to see her clothes were unchanged from the night before, as opposed to the fading memory of the unwieldy garb she’d worn in that dream. Her hair was still the same short choppy blue mess that ended just above her jaw and her armor was simple. Her black, knee length tunic and black pants were untouched by the dirt and moisture that filled this room. Her midsection, shoulders and arms were covered in a lighter plate armor than the heavy steel of her boots, and both had clearly seen their fair share of battles. Her cloak was seemingly nowhere to be found, but otherwise, she was clothed. 

“Hmmmmm, I’ve not seen you like this before,” the child paused before asking ”tell me, who are you?”. 

“I…..I am Byleth.” She said. This child seemed kind enough, but it felt much like looking at the water in a canal, the surface was calm, but there was a feeling of something underneath that should terrify her. 

“Huh, I had never thought I’d be accustomed to human names, but it seems a small mercy that you hold onto the one I know best. How strange! Hmm. It all feels so familiar, yet at the same time so very very…different. I think it may be time for yet another nap...something seems to have drained me, and I find my mind getting foggier by the moment. Now, get on your way. ” 

“Hey, kid, It’s time to wake up.” Byleth’s eyes dragged open and she sat up from her small bedroll, trying to make heads or tails of anything from her dream...either of them. The first had faded so quickly from her mind it was a mess of colors and emotions more than any coherent image. 

“Were you having that dream again?” Jeralt asked, kneeling down so his face was closer to level with Byleth’s, resting his hand on her shoulder. She nodded, shaking her head slightly to try and clear it of what remained of the fog of sleep. 

“I...dreamt about a woman. She was short, and her eyes were...what were they?” She wondered aloud. She’d remembered the exhaustion in the woman’s eyes, but she’d lost the color of them to the fog. 

“You’ve described her to me before. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like that, green hair and all.” Jeralt said as he stood and patted Byleth’s shoulder. 

“No, it wasn’t her...well it was but before…” Jeralt cut her off, though byleth was more whispering to herself than anything so it seemed just as likely he hadn’t heard her in the first place.

“In any case, just put that out of your mind for now. The battlefield is no place for idle thoughts. Risking your life is part of the job for mercenaries like us. Letting your mind wander is a sure way to get yourself killed.” Byleth nodded and stood up, taking Jeralt’s offered hand to help her up.“OK, soon it’s going to be time to get moving towards our next job in Farghus. It’s far from here, so we’ll need to be ready to leave at dawn.” 

"Of course, Sir." Byleth replied as she and Jeralt turned to hear the sounds of armored boots clanking down the road cobblestone paths could be heard. 

“Good grief, it seems the entire camp is up and waiting for us out there. Let’s go see what…” The door behind Jeralt swung open and a hastily armored mercenary ran into the room. 

“Jeralt! Sir, I’m sorry to barge in like this, but you’re needed immediately.” 

“Vladimir, what happened?” The young mercenary opened his mouth to reply when suddenly three clamoring masses forced their way through the door. Three people stood, panting desperately, between Jeralt and Vladimir. One of them, a blonde young man with a blue half-cape draped over him was the first to speak.

“Please forgive us for such a rude entrance sir, we wouldn’t bother you were the situation not absolutely dire.” His voice, between his rapid panting breaths, was deeper than would be expected from someone his age. 

“What do a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?” Jeralt’s voice held no animosity toward the three of them, but Byleth could see in the way his shoulders were set, he expected a fight. 

“We’re being pursued by a group of bandits. I can only hope that you will be so kind as to lend your support.” The blonde boy replied. Jeralt had been right. 

“Bandits? Here?” 

“It’s true. They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp.” This time the person to reply to Jeralt was the young woman to the left of the blonde they’d just been speaking with. Her attire was rather strange. While the other two were wearing somewhat sensable pants and ornate shirts, with armor scattered around in various places, she wore a pair of black shorts and red tights, along with a pair of black heeled shoes. 

“We’ve been separated from our companions and we’re outnumbered. They’re after our lives…not to mention our gold.” the last member of the trio, a young man with a yellow cape draped over his left shoulder, explained. 

“I’m impressed by how calm you all seem considering the situation. But, I have to ask, your uniforms…” 

“Sir! A large group of bandits have been spotted, just outside the village!” A mercenary screamed out, before he and Vladimir ran out the door, presumably to assemble whatever forces they could. 

“I guess they followed you all this way, then. We won’t abandon you to a bandit’s blade, but ensure you do not get in the way.” Jeralt said as he looked over his shoulder at Byleth. Byleth nodded, face blank of anything betraying an emotion, and grabbed a pair of iron brawling gauntlets off of the floor. Jeralt began walking towards the door. “Come on, let’s move. I hope you’re ready for this, all of you.” 

The five of them ran out of the building. Jeralt was the first to speak. 

“Kid, take the three students and meet me in the northern forest. I’ll get my mount and meet you there with as many men as I can rally.” Byleth gave another nod and turned to the three kids, students but of what she had no idea, and finished sliding her gauntlets into place. 

“Follow closely.” They all three nodded, not a moment of hesitation among them. The four of them ran towards the large forest to the north of the mercenary camp. Byleth was preparing to find a clearing to wait for Jeralt and his men, when the yellow-caped student called out. 

“Bandits, to the left!” And he was correct. Out of the trees roughly 100 yards away, several large bandits were emerging. The largest of them, a bearded man, had clearly already had seen the four of them, as the bandits began rapidly moving towards them. The girl to Byleth’s right took hold of the blunted Iron axe that had been slung across her back, While the boy in yellow and the boy in blue pulled out a bow and lance respectively. 

“Keep close. Red, I want you to my right. Blue, to my left, and Yellow stay behind us. Make sure as few of them get to us as possible and we’ll make sure none of them make it to you.”  
“We do have names you know.” The girl in red muttered, clearly none too pleased. 

“Make it out of this alive and I’ll learn them. I know enough dead men’s names to last a lifetime, I don’t need any more.” Byleth’s reply, paired with the blank expression she wore, set all three students on edge. “If I tell you to do something and you don’t, your death is on your own head. Understood?”

“Understood... I must wonder if all mercenaries are as strange as you. Well fine, let’s see what you’ve got.” Edelgard said, shifting into a lower combat stance and readying her axe.

“Understood. Thank you for lending us your strength. A death here wouldn’t do, so let us fight together!” The one in blue said to Byleth, his lance poised for blood. 

“Understood. Keep me alive, and you will have my eternal thanks.” The young man in yellow said, almost jovially as he readied an arrow.

Byleth nodded and with a “Charge!” the quartet sprang forward. Three bandits ran at them from the left. The lancer charged towards the one leading the pack, smacking the side of his spear into the man’s head, while the archer launched a shot into his head, the blunted training arrow knocking him onto his back unconscious. . The girl in red charged forward and slammed her axe into the shoulder of one of the bandits, a second later Byleth brought her iron-clad fist into the side of the man’s head, bone cracking loudly as he fell dead. 

The last conscious member of the initial bandit charge ran forward and swung at the girl in red, leaving a long gash along her right arm. One bandit who seemed to come from the woods to their right charged towards the boy in yellow, but the lancer in blue stood in his path, taking a blow to his side before swatting the bandit back. The lancer took the opportunity and lashed out and swung for the man’s head, catching the side of his jaw and sending the man to the ground, out cold. The archer ran forward and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“Dimitri, are you ok?!” 

“It’s nothing to worry about, Claude. A flesh wound at worst. Don’t lose focus.” The one in blue, Dimitri, replied as he clutched at his side, leaning on his lance. “Go help Edelgard and that woman, I’ll watch your back and catch up in a moment.” The boy in yellow, Claude, smiled and nodded at him. 

“Ok. Just don’t take too long looking at my ass and not cover your own.” Dimitri chuckled as Claude ran towards Byleth and Edelgard, who stood over the unconscious form of a large axe wielding bandit. Once Dimitri was finally caught up the final four bandits were upon them, including the man with the beard. Two charged forward towards Edelgard and Byleth, and were felled quickly by the duo. Claude and Dimitri tore away from the two women and charged at the bandit that was trying to come up from behind. 

Finally, it was time to fight the bearded bandit leader. All four ran towards him, Byleth going forward, with Edelgard running at him from the left and Dimitri from the right. All the while Claude shot at him from behind the trio. The bandit fell to the ground with barely a sound except a dull thud. Even Byleth was left a bit winded by the battle, with the three students all gasping for air desperately. Byleth sat down, leaning against a tree as she began to regain her breath. After a moment or two, the girl in red stood up, having been leaned forward with her hands braced on her knees, and looked at the mercenary. 

“Edelgard….my name is Edelgard Von Hresvelg.” She said between pants. 

“Good for you.” Byleth mumbled, her tone was as blank emotionally as it ever was. She held her hand out, which Edelgard took in her own in a firm handshake. “Byleth, my name is Byleth Eisner.” 

Edelgard...it was quite a pretty name but strangely familiar, as if she had heard it before. Perhaps it was one of her father’s old stories, or some noble she'd heard gossip about. But that wasn’t of much importance. Byleth stood, preparing to begin walking as she heard the sounds of hooves drawing near. Presumably belonging to her father’s mount.

“Come, we need to regroup with the rest of the encampment and see if there are any more bandits around.” The three nodded simultaneously. Dimitri and Claude went to pick up their weapons, while Edelgard continued forward, past Byleth. 

Suddenly the quiet was pierced by a loud battle cry. “Die! You noble brat!” Rang throughout the woods as Byleth turned to see the bearded man running at Edelgard with his axe in hand. Edelgard was fumbling with her axe but she wouldn’t make it in time. Byleth launched forward, shoving the girl aside before turning in hopes of presenting some kind of fight, but the axe was inches from her throat when it stopped suddenly. Byleth looked down, and saw everything, even the grass which had been billowing in the wind a moment ago had stopped. When she looked up she saw not the bandit leader, but that strange green haired girl on the throne.

“It seems some things never change with you. I don’t know whether to be happy you seem to be your same foolhardy self or even more angry! Honestly, what were you ever hoping to achieve with that little “noble sacrifice” stunt?” The young girl yelled down from her seat. Byleth could only shrug and look up at her.

“I….she needed help.” Byleth said, looking up as if that was all that needed to be said. The room was silent for a long moment, as the strange girl looked at her with eyes that struck Byleth as almost mournful. After another long moment she sighed and leaned back, slumping against the backrest of the throne. 

“Well… I am at the very least glad to see you’re still yourself, with all the hopeless shortcomings that entails. But I can’t expect you to protect your life if you don’t remember the value of it. I am Sothis, the goddess that watches over this land and it’s people, and I guess It’s up to me to guide you from now on. Here is the hope that from this moment on things can make a bit more sense.” 

“Sothis? The goddess? You speak of me as if you know me, yet I’ve never met a child so odd as you to claim to be the goddess herself.” 

“You think me a child, still? Yet again it shows that all your differences aside you’re as bullheaded as ever. I just saved your life! It’s not the first time I’ve done so either! With how you seem to act I highly doubt it will be the last as well. What does that make you?” Sothis was standing now, her arms crossed in front of her as she looked down on Byleth. 

“I am indebted to a child.” This seemed to take Sothis by surprise. 

“I suppose you are. Now, I believe we have a more pressing matter at hand. You threw yourself before an axe to save just one girl, and were it not for my quick intervention you’d have died.” Byleth looked at her confused, or at least Sothis believed it to be confusion. On Byleth’s stoic face that meant little more than a slight crease in the corners of her eyes. Of all the things that could’ve changed between their first meeting and whatever had gotten them here, Sothis wished Byleth could have kept a bit more of the emotional spectrum she remembered the young mercenary having. Although she was starting to have trouble remembering what exactly Byleth had been like before. “It is just your lucky day that, whatever has changed, I still seem to be able to rewind time as well as pause it. Only so far, it seems. I feel so very drained and yet I can’t seem to figure a reason why. But I can do it all the same! Now, this time around, please try a bit harder to actually protect yourself, lest you condemn us both to a painful, if very very dramatic, end.” With that, her hands raised into the air, light arranging itself into intricate patterns in front of her as Byleth felt her stomach lurch, and suddenly she was back in the forest, Edelgard standing with her back to Byleth as the bearded bandits shout rang across the trees. Byleth didn’t hesitate for a second, swiftly moving between the two of them and raised her arms in front of her. The Bandits axe lodged in the iron of her gauntlet, and while he struggled to pull it loose, Byleth brought her unburdened fist up under his jaw. His head flew back, and he fell over onto his hands and knees, panickedly crawling away until he was finally stable enough to get up and run. Byleth turned to Edelgard as Dimitri and Claude both reached them, weapons at the ready. 

“Edelgard, are you injured?” Dimitri asked watching the bandit disappear into the trees.

“No, Dimitri, I am fine. She was fast enough to stop him before he even got close.” She replied, gesturing to Byleth, who was now busy trying to dislodge the axe currently stuck in her gauntlet. By the time she had succeeded her father and several mercenaries had arrived to the clearing. Jeralt dismounted from his horse. 

“Byleth, did you just….” Suddenly a man wearing a suit of armor with a frankly ridiculous shoulder spike, along with several other well armored men came out from the forest where they had just seen the bandit disappear. 

“The Knights of Seiros are here! Fear not good students, for we shall cut down all who terrorize…...wait, where are they?” He turned to the men behind him. “Go hunt them down!”. The men nodded and ran back into the forest, while the man came closer to Byleth and Jeralt, calling out as he walked. 

“Thank you so much for protecting the young students my kind man! May I ask your… wait…Captain Jeralt!? Is it really you? Haha! It’s been nearly 20 years! Do you recognize me? Of course you do! How could you ever forget your old right-hand man, Alois? I knew you couldn’t be dead!” 

“Alois, I see you haven’t changed much in all these years, least of all your volume. But I’m not your captain anymore, I’m a mercenary, so quit with the formalities. If you need me, I’ll be packing up the camp with the rest of my men, we have work in the Alliance.” Exhaustion was clear in her father’s voice. 

“Wait! You can’t just walk off, this is fantastic! I insist that you return to the monastery. Lady Rhea will surely want to thank you for protecting her students. 

“Garreg Mach….I suppose this was inevitable.” Jeralt’s tone said plenty. He was less than ecstatic, even by his usual standards. 

“And what about you, kid? Are you the captain's child?” Alois asked, seemingly sizing her up. Byleth’s response was a quick and simple nod, followed by a rather uncomfortable silence that was finally broken by Alois coughing awkwardly. “Well it does seem while not much was inherited regarding appearance, you certainly learned his way with words. Haha..but still! It’ll be wonderful to show you the monastery as well! I assume you’re coming along?” Byleth gave another quick nod and Jeralt began walking away, giving orders to the men around the camp and preparing for travel. 

“Now captain! Don’t go running off again!” Alois called towards Jeralt.

“Even I’m not that daring, Alois.” 

Byleth wandered back to the cabin she’d occupied the night before and packed her few personal belongings. She left out a small bottle of healers brew, a strong alcohol used to clean wounds, and a bundle of cloth that had once been a shirt she used for bandaging. She sat on top of her travel pack and now-rolled-up bedroll, slowly undoing the various buckles that held her armor in place and sliding the armour and tunic over top of her head. She finally was able to start examining the damage from the morning. There was a long but rather surface lever gash in her forearm, an arrow wound in her left thigh, and a few bruises where her armor had protected her from a blade but not the force behind it. She made quick work of cleaning out the wounds and wrapping most of them in bandaging before taking time to stitch the arrow wound. She’d always healed faster than most of the brigade so she tended not to want to bother the few mages with healing magic they had, lest they need that magic to save another man later. 

It was right about when Byleth had slid her roughspun cotton under-shirt back on that she heard a knock from the front door. She sighed, stood, and turned on her heel toward the door, throwing it open without even a second thought. She’d lived with the company as long as she could remember, and living among nomadic sell-swords meant there were vastly lower bars for personal boundaries than in other groups. However, when the door opened on a slightly nervous looking Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude, two of whom proceeded to go wide eyed and beat red, all the while Claude remained completely unphased, Byleth began to realise just how stark that difference in standards might be. 

“Can I help you?” Byleth asked, leaning against the door frame as she crossed her arms in front of her. 

“I...I wanted to thank you. Your help was greatly appreciated, and your skill is beyond question. You’re clearly an experienced mercenary. N..not that that’s at all surprising given your father was a former Knight Captain, Jeralt the Blade Breaker.” 

“Hmmmm, I never knew he was a captain. He’s been a mercenary as long as I’ve been able to remember.” Edelgard looked up from what must have been a rather fascinating patch of grass at her feet, if how intensely she had been staring at it was any indication. Making her the first of the awkward duo to be able to look Byleth in the eye. She had a strange look in her eyes, the lilac color notwithstanding. It was something like a vague hope. 

“Curious….I’m sure the reasoning for that must be a fascinating story.” 

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to hear the story. You’re coming with us to the monastery, correct? I’d love to bend your ear during the trek back to the officers academy. It’s at least a day and a half’s walk from here.” Claude smiled at Byleth as he asked.

“What’s the matter, Claude, trying to ensure this nice woman is there in case there are any more bandit’s you need to run away from?” Edelgard asked, smirking at the archer.  
“Now Edelgard, leave him alone.” Dimitri said, a small grin crossing his cheeks. “I’m sure he was only acting in our best interest by leaving us behind to fight those bandits alone.” Claude laughed and soon the conversation devolved into a bickering match filled with accusations of paranoia, cowardice, gullibility and all other sorts of weak-at-best insults until Byleth snapped her fingers, getting the three student’s attention. 

“May I ask which part of this pertains to me?” 

Dimitri spoke up first.

“Please, forgive our digression. I was hoping to bend your ear for a moment. I’m the heir to the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Fargus, and what I saw of your skill today made me certain that our ranks would be strengthened immensely by having someone of your caliber at the helm.” Dimitri was in the middle of a breath when Edelgard spoke up.

“Your skill on the battlefield truly was beyond impressive, and I’d like to ask you to consider lending that skill to the Adrestian Empire. I’m the next in line for the Imperial throne and I…” Edelgard had taken a step closer as she spoke, but Dimitri put his hand on her shoulder as he tried to continue his point. 

“Edelgard, please, allow me to finish my own offer before stepping in with your own. The Holy Kingdom of Fargus would be greatly appreciative of a tactician such as you. If you’d like, I would be honored to extend an invitation to return to the kingdom with me.” 

“Whoa there you two,” Claude chimed in, hand rested on his hip. “A little lesson in subtlety would do you both well. Trying to recruit someone you’ve only just met? I’d expect this kinda thing from you Edelgard, but you as well Dimitri?” Claude ‘tisked’ audibly, shaking his head before chuckling a bit. 

_“These three, I swear, they really never held much in terms of tact even at the best of times. It seems the more things change, the more they stay the same. So, where shall we start this time? _” Sothis asked, her voice ringing through Byleth’s mind like a bell. She looked between the three of them. All three looked her in the eyes this time.__

____

____

Claude's eyes felt cold and empty when examined with any scrutiny, like staring at the eyes of a painting, any emotion you see is placed there specifically to be seen rather then being genuinely felt. On to Dimitri; his eyes held a genuine hope, which Byleth found reassuring, but something behind it felt off, like looking at a fox and not being sure if it intended to befriend you or go for your throat. Finally, Edelgards eyes held a strange mixture of determination and distrust within them, but something was bubbling up underneath...Fear, it was fear, of what Byleth had no idea but this girl was terrified of something. She felt something heavy and, in a way, distant in her chest. It was as if she’d been hit with a stone a split second before and was feeling an echo of the pain. It was such a strange sensation, but Byleth took it as a sign, and stepped down the few wooden steps out of the front door and held her hand out towards the red-clad heiress. Edelgard’s lips stretched into a polite smile before she took the hand and shook. 

“A wise choice. While the Empire is not as glorious as it once was, we’re not a nation to be easily broken, and that will not change once I’ve taken the throne.” 

“I look forward to working with you. Now, if it would be of no inconvenience, your highness, may I go put the rest of my clothes on?” Byleth asked, her tone and face so blank Edelgard couldn’t tell if the request was sarcastic or genuine. Her face went red and she dropped the mercenaries hand, nodding quickly. 

“Y...yes of course, apologies for the inconvenience.” Edelgard said, blushing. Byleth didn’t reply, simply turning and returning to the cabin. 

“ _Always such a hurry with those three. She is certainly refined, but she’s none too subtle about the way she evaluates everyone around her. What could strike such fear in the heart of a future empress?” Sothis wondered as Byleth donned her armor.The door opened a minute or two later, with Byleth standing in her tunic and coat as Alois walked up alongside a very tired looking Jeralt._

__

__

“That’s enough catching up! It’s time to head back.” Alois exclaimed, clapping his hand on Jeralt’s shoulder. The students and Byleth nodded, moving to join the departing mercenary company. The sun was just cresting over top of the treeline,it was a beautiful site, but the light stung Byleth’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! thank you for making it to the end of my first chapter, I promise many more to come. This is actually my first time writing a long-form fanfic, and I'm a bit nervous, but I have several chapters written out already so hopefully that means I'll be able to take time and ensure my content is to the level I want it when I put it out. At time of writing I have 5 chapters drafter, and two proofread, but i'm only to the end of chapter 2 in game so I might've signed up for something bigger than I intended hahaha. I'll be publishing on a once-a-week basis going forward, but if I feel this time frame doesn't give me the time I need to put out quality content I will shift to every-other-week, as opposed to going on hell-atus. I hate when creators have to do that shit. Please, if you enjoyed my writing or have any input on how I can improve my writing style, consider a Kudos and a comment.


	2. Chapter 2: A Rocky Start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the first update for BSBT, and I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please consider leaving a Kudos or a comment.

After a long day of hiking the strange band of knights, mercenaries, and nobility made camp in a small clearing off of the main road. One group began cooking over a large fire while the rest made quick work erecting a roughshod camp to last the night. The air was frigid with the wind blowing in from the grand mountains to the north. Byleth tossed her pack to the ground a few dozen yards from the main fire pit and began unpacking a small tent she’d been using since she was a teenager. It consisted of more patches than the original fabric. It had been the first tent she’d had to herself, and she’d been using it for nearly 6 years. Up until then she’d just set her bedroll in the corner of her father’s tent. 

About the time she was finishing planting the last stake, ensuring the tent wouldn’t blow away before she slept, the clanging of a bell rang throughout the camp, signalling that it was time to eat. A large pot full of stew was bubbling over the fire as everyone lined up and began filling up bowls. Byleth filled her’s heartily and grabbed a chunk of long-past-stale bread before sitting against a tree towards the edge of the camp. She plucked a chunk of the meat from her stew and popped it into her mouth, washing it down with a sip of broth. After another few minutes Edelgard, Dimitri and Claude walked over to her and sat down. Edelgard took a seat on a nearby tree stump while Claude and Dimitri simply sat on the ground across from Byleth. She didn’t pay them much mind as she ate her meal and they ate theirs. 

While in the middle of plucking another rather large chunk of meat from her bowl with her fingers Byleth realised Dimitri was looking at her strangely. She finished the morsel quickly, coughing a bit as some of it seemed to go down the wrong pipe, before looking at the prince. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” Byleth asked, it being unclear to those around her if she was sincerely asking or not.

“Oh, no, nothing at all. I apologize I’m just not accustomed to...” Dimitri seemed to struggle to find a way to end his deflection. 

“Dining with someone who eats like a feral animal?” Edelgard interrupted, scooping a spoon full of stew into her mouth politely. Claude snickered quietly but continued eating his soup without comment. Byleth was starting to like the archer more and more. 

“No! Simply someone who is not so...burdened with worries about etiquette.” Dimitri said quietly, shrugging gently before simply returning to his stew. Byleth wondered what hope this boy had of ever being a good politician if he was so wanting for subtlety, yet at the same time lacking a stomach for stating things outright. 

“Unsurprising.” Byleth said “Considering what little you’ve all told me about the other students at your academy so far. I find those who haven’t been burdened by concerns of where their next meal will come from often have time to worry about such things as etiquette .” Edelgard’s glare never left Byleth as the mercenary popped a chunk of broth-soaked bread into her mouth. Something seemed to bubble up in Edelgard’s eyes as she stood up and cleaned off the front of her uniform. 

“Please, do not presume to know anything about us, miss Eisner. It’s unbecoming and arrogant. You do not know our classmates, nor us.” She chided, walking off towards the Knights of Seiros and sitting next to Alois before continuing to eat her meal. 

_“It’s reassuring to see you have about as much social tact this time around as you did the first time.” _Rang through Byleth’s head, clearly the voice of Sothis. Byleth wanted to retort and defend herself, but she was cut off. _“Oh relax and finish your soup, you lumbering oaf. Wouldn’t want your future students thinking you’re some mad hermit.” _Amusement was evident in her voice. Byleth was beyond confused at that comment, but followed the young goddess’s advice. The remaining three diners finished their food in silence before Byleth stood and walked off to her tent. Once inside she removed her tunic, armor, and gauntlets before collapsing onto her bed roll. It took Byleth at most a minute to fall into the empty inky blackness of a sound, dreamless sleep.____

____ _ _

____The next morning passed in a rushed blur as the camp was broken down, packed, and put onto the road. The mass of mercenaries and knights was led by Byleth, Jeralt and Alois, as well as the three students. Jeralt was walking while his mount pulled a large cart of heavy supplies. Edelgard stood on the opposite side of the other two students from Byleth, whether she was still upset after the exchange last night or simply stood there by chance was unclear. Several miles passed in strained silence until finally Dimitri began speaking._ _ _ _

____“So…” He started, clearly uncomfortable. “This will be your first time at the monastery, correct? It’s a very fine academy, and the student body and faculty really are wonderful, if a bit...eclectic.”_ _ _ _

____“It‘s Fodlan in a nutshell. All the in-fighting and noble snobbery, oh and don’t forget the needless drama, it’s endless. But the food is hearty, and the education is second to none.” Claude chimed in._ _ _ _

____“Well, like it or not, we’re here.” Edelgard said as the quartet walked through the tree line, stepping into a large clearing at the center of which sat a tall hill topped with grand, ornate buildings that towered into the air._ _ _ _

____The caravan made its way up the hill. As they drew closer to the campus another, much smaller, caravan was coming down the same path. At its head was a tall blonde woman who bore a rather impressive, if impractically shaped, sword across her back. The caravan drew closer, and Byleth saw the blonde woman waving Alois to come closer as she sauntered over._ _ _ _

____“Alois! Glad to see you back here in one piece. How’d babysitting the brats go?” The woman asked, slapping Alois on the shoulder. Alois rubbed the back of his head awkwardly._ _ _ _

____“Good to see you as well, Catherine. Well, we ran into a bit of trouble with some bandits it seems, and thankfully these kind fighters were able to help keep the students safe!” Alois said, gesturing towards Byleth, Jeralt, and the pack of mercenaries behind them. Catherine smiled and nodded at both of them._ _ _ _

____“Glad to hear you had someone besides me to pull your ass out of the fire there, Alois. I’d love to stay and chat, but Lady Rhea has me running security on this transport convoy to the Northern Church.” Catherine said, gesturing to the caravan behind her. “I’ll see you when I get back, Alois. You two have a good day, don’t let this guy drive you too crazy.” She said to Byleth and Jeralt, slapping Alois on the back as she walked past. The caravan began back up the hill. A little ways up, the mercenaries broke away and began making camp around the outskirts of the monastery while the knights and students, along with Byleth and Jeralt, continued onto the campus._ _ _ _

____Garreg Mach was surprisingly lively. Byleth had expected large, stuffy halls full of students with their noses buried in tomes older than most of their grandparents. Claude’s comments about noble snobbery and drama had only enforced those expectations, but the campus was alive with young men and women sparring with blunted weapons, or launching spells at large mannequins in armor that had clearly seen better days. Byleth saw a woman in a long flowing black gown that had a rather ridiculously neckline lecturing a group of students out in a field and made a mental note to make her acquaintance sooner rather than later._ _ _ _

____Jeralt came to a stop suddenly, causing Byleth to bump into his back as he looked up into the air above them. Byleth followed his gaze and saw a woman with bright green hair standing on a balcony above them and looking down. Even from several stories below Byleth could see the elaborate patterns in her robes._ _ _ _

____“It’s been years, and as always she looks no different...” Jeralt muttered to himself as he turned his gaze down and began walking again. Byleth followed close behind. “All these years and yet somehow this place, just like it’s headmistress, is exactly as it looked the day I left.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose._ _ _ _

____“You never told me you went here before. Were you a student?” Byleth asked. She never really knew much about her father’s past, or her own for that matter. What she did know was more of a blur than anything of much substance. She could remember pieces and fragments but not many actual, coherent memories._ _ _ _

____“No. I’d’ve liked to keep it in the past, but I used to be a knight here. Captain, in fact. It was long before you were born when I left. I spent many years of my life slaving away as a soldier in service of the Archbishop, and it seems she’s graced us both with a request for an audience in her office.” Jeralt sounded less than pleased. “That woman has the ear of damn near the entirety of Fodlan, peasant and noble alike. Be cautious Byleth.”_ _ _ _

____The two of them walked into a large ornate audience chamber, statues and pillars lining both sides of the hall and at the end of it stood the same green haired woman next to a tall, bearded man with shoulder length hair that was a slightly darker shade of green. Byleth felt a crack of pain throughout her skull as she saw the man, shaking her head a bit and rubbing her closed eyes as she, for a split second, saw a flash of blood soaked robes and a dead wyvern. As quickly as it was there, it was gone, fading into the same fog as everything else._ _ _ _

____“Thank you for your presence, Jeralt. My name is Seteth, I’m the head advisor to the archbishop.” Seteth offered his hand which Jeralt took and shook, offering a “Right, hello.” in reply. “...Does your compatriat need some sort of care? Her eyes seem to be bothering her.” Seteth asked as Byleth walked up beside her father. Byleth bowed slightly, hand resting her belt near the handle of her dagger._ _ _ _

____“My apologies. The light simply caught my eye and blinded me for a moment.” Byleth lied, eyes never leaving the green haired man._ _ _ _

____“Oh, I am sorry. These windows can make some issues with the light, but...usually that is more during the evening than the morning… but that’s no matter! It’s been such a long time, Jeralt.” Rhea said, nodding towards Jeralt and Byleth. Her voice sounded kind, but something felt missing from it. What exactly, Byleth couldn’t quite tell._ _ _ _

____“It has. I had intended for it to be less, Lady Rhea, but the world kept me busy and sadly I haven’t been able to keep in touch.” Jeralt said with a bow towards the archbishop._ _ _ _

____“I understand, Jeralt. After the loss you endured here, I couldn’t imagine it would be easy to return. Thank you for coming to speak to me. And is this the daughter I heard so much about from Sir Alois?” Rhea gestured to Byleth as she spoke._ _ _ _

____“Yes. She is my second in command. I’d have loved to introduce you to her mother, but sadly she passed not long after Byleth was born. An awful plague swept our village, and she was too weakened from labor to survive.” Jeralt’s words made Byleth even more curious. He had always said that her mother had died in battle. Byleth had never heard him speak like this before. She could tell he was lying through his teeth, but it was as if he was walking on eggshells._ _ _ _

____“My deepest condolences, Sir Jeralt. Miss Eisner, I heard much from Alois about your valliant work protecting our students. May I ask your name?_ _ _ _

____“Byleth.” She said bluntly._ _ _ _

____“A fine name indeed.” Rhea said, another smile crossing her cheeks.”From the bottom of my heart, thank you for saving our students. I couldn’t bear the thought of a student being lost, whether here at the academy or out in the world.” Jeralt made a quiet “Hmph” sound in the back of his throat. “Jeralt, I assume you have already come to know what it is I wish to ask of you, have you not?” Rhea turned from Byleth towards her father. Jeralt sighed and nodded._ _ _ _

____“You want me to rejoin the knights of Seiros.” Rhea Nodded. “I won’t say no, but….” Rhea frowned._ _ _ _

____“Your hesitation hurts, Jeralt. I know it can’t be easy, but these events show we have more need of you than ever. I have some business I sadly must attend to, so I must step away, but I expect Alois will desire a word with you as soon as possible. Please, listen carefully to them. Farewell.” Rhea bowed as she finished speaking and walked away._ _ _ _

____Byleth stood outside the hall as Jeralt and Seteth spoke in the chamber further. Finally Jeralt stepped out and began walking down the hall and Byleth followed close behind._ _ _ _

____“I can’t believe it. The nerve of that woman. She drags me back and to make matters worse they’ve dragged you in as well. Seems we’ll be stuck here for a while.” Jeralt muttered, barely audible to Byleth as he pushed open a door to a large, dusty office just down the hall from the audience chamber._ _ _ _

____“We?” Byleth asked as she looked around the room from her position leaning against the doorway._ _ _ _

____“Yes, we. I’m afraid the Archbishop has need of your service, as a teacher in the officers academy here in the monastery. Those brats you saved are students here, heads of the three houses no less, and the Academy lost a professor earlier this month. Apparently that damned Alois recommended you highly to the archbishop. They’re sending the other professors to meet you here to discuss the specifics.” Jeralt said. Not a moment later a tall man in a long beige cloak, matching suit, and with a rather absurd mustache walked into view alongside the woman Byleth had seen in the field earlier. Byleth moved into the office and allowed the two to step inside as she stood next to her father. The woman was the first to speak._ _ _ _

____“So, you’re the new professor?” She said, eyeing Jeralt up and down without shame. “My oh my, we’ve been missing a ‘stern and handsome’ type.” Jeralt became visibly uncomfortable._ _ _ _

____“Er, no. She’s the one you’re looking for.” Jeralt said pointing to Byleth, not even looking at the woman as he dug through the drawers of a desk in the office. He leaned over and whispered to Byleth. “Kid, be careful. Especially around Rhea. I don’t know what she’s thinking, and she may be up to something.” Byleth nodded at her father's advice. He walked them out of the office and closed the doors to the office behind them._ _ _ _

____“So, it’s you then? My, you’re rather young...” The woman said once they had finally moved farther down the hall into another office. At the center of the room a large strange pedestal stood out from the carpet and the walls were scattered with overloaded bookshelves. The woman was eyeing her up with a finger on her chin in much the same way she had done to Jeralt. Her dress, which Byleth had mistaken for black, was actually a dark blue and she was now wearing a white furred cloak accented with orange chords._ _ _ _

____“Competence and age are not necessarily correlated, as you well know. But I will say you are not the type of person I expected to be offered the professorship, a spot with the guard, perhaps. But, all that aside, my name is Hanneman. I’m a crest scholar and professor here. This is my office. I look forward to working with you. If you’d be so kind, I insist you pay me a visit later so I may examine if you bear a crest on this here analyzer.” The man with the absurd mustache said, shaking Byleth’s hand as he spoke._ _ _ _

____“Byleth.” She introduced herself as she shook Hanneman’s hxand._ _ _ _

____“Quite the chatterbox.” The woman muttered under her breath before reaching her own hand out to Byleth. “I’m Manuela. I’m a professor, the resident physician here at the academy, a songstress, and available. It’s nice to meet you.” Manuela shot Byleth a wink at the word available. Byleth took Manuela’s hand._ _ _ _

____“Available, you said” Byleth asked, and Manuelas face visibly lit up. Byleth was going to ignore that last remark, but it wasn’t her first time interacting with a woman like Manuela, they weren’t uncommon to run into as a mercenary, and she knew that playing along was probably her best bet in staying on the professors good side. Hell hath no fury and all that, besides, she was rather attractive._ _ _ _

____“Hmmm, maybe you will actually be more fun to have around here than I thought.” Manuela mumbled to herself. “Yes, available. If you’d like we could...”_ _ _ _

____“Oh Goddess be merciful Manuela, spare our colleague your flirtation, or at the very least spare me. We have much to discuss.” Hanneman blurted out, cutting Manuela off to her visible distaste. “So, it seems you’ll be taking charge of one of the academy’s three houses. I’d imagine you’re not aware of the nature of the houses here at the academy, are you?” Henneman asked as he looked at Byleth’s blank expression and was uncertain whether it was due to confusion or if she was just...like that._ _ _ _

____“Do you really expect her to know?” Manuela chastised, soon after she and Hanneman explained the three houses, each affiliated with The Alliance,The Empire, and The Holy Kingdom, and their three house leads all being the next in line for leadership._ _ _ _

____“The next leaders of all the three major powers in Fodlan, all here in a single year, quite the prestigious lineup. I just hope none of them cause any trouble, or goddess willing start some political conflict over petty drama. But that’s beyond the point. It’d be a good idea for you to go speak to the heads of each respective house and see which house would be a good fit for you. The Archbishop said we’d be meeting at noon to pick our house, so It’d be best to get a move on. We’ve notified the house leaders, and only the leaders, that you’re the new professor here. Hanneman thought it’d be more fun that way.” Manuela smiled as she saw Hannemen’s jaw drop in indignation at her final sentence._ _ _ _

____“I most certainly did not! That was your idea!” Hanneman protested as Manuela waved Byleth away._ _ _ _

____“Go on, talk to your students. We can continue our conversation some other time.” Manuela said with a sly smile. Byleth walked off down the hall towards the stairs down to the main floor and began wandering the campus to try and get her bearings. The Monastery was massive and complex. Byleth was worried she’d get lost easily, but the whole place felt so strangely familiar to her._ _ _ _

_____“I am so very curious. This all seems similar to the last time...but still different here and there.” _Sothis’s voice rang through Byleth’s head yet again.__ _ _ _ _

______“What do you mean, last time?” Byleth muttered under her breath to herself as she wandered the halls._ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Do you really not remember? Anything? We’ve been here before, many times. But why we’re here again, I have no idea.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“No. I don’t remember any of this.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________“Well, that makes this even more confounding. We’ve never had issues before with you remembering our times turning back the clock. Yet you greeted me as a complete stranger the day before yesterday… I’m trying to remember anything of the last time through all of this but my memories feel hazy, fractured. Many of them feel so strange, as if I’m not seeing them through your eyes the way I see the world around you now. They clutter my mind, but fade to mist the moment I try to remember anything concrete from them.” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Well, as far as I'm aware, you are a stranger. But my mind feels much the same. I remember myself, but my past is a fog. But it’s always been that way, for as long as I’ve lived.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“That’s exactly the issue, you fool! Your memories and mine aren’t meant to be one and the same! Ugh, just go about your business before someone sees you mumbling to yourself and thinks you’ve gone mad. But please, do try and act like you’re some kind of functioning human being and not some emotionless shaved bear of a woman. I had forgotten how boring of company you could be when you are like this.” _Sothis griped. Byleth shook her head, exasperated, and walked on past one of the small training grounds in front of a long column of what appeared to be classrooms. In the grass off to one side a young man with bright orange hair and his shirt collar unbuttoned was chatting with another student with choppy grey hair as well as a tall student who’s complexion gave him away as a man of Duscar. He stood at least a head taller than either of the two around him. Byleth approached the trio, and the redhead noticed her right away. He turned towards her with a cocky grin.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well well, quite the lucky day huh Ashe, Dedue? Being approached by such a beauty is quite an honor. My name is Sylvain Jose Gautier, please, feel free to speak to me whenever I can assist you.” Sylvain made a dramatic bowing motion as he spoke. An awkward cough came from the grey haired student._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Uh, Hi! My apologies for Sylvain. But you must be the one everyone has been talking about! I’m Ashe, and this is Dedue. He’s Prince Dimitri’s right hand man.” Ashe smiled and gestured to the taller man._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I have heard you rescued his highness. I will never be able to express my gratitude, but should you ever require my strength please do not hesitate to ask.“ Dedue bowed towards Byleth with his hand over his heart. She returned the gesture. She’d worked with many Duscan mercenaries, and this greeting was a sign of respect she wished to return._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Pleased to meet all of you. Might you know where any of the house leads are?” Byleth asked. Sylvain shrugged, while Dedue and Ashe both nodded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“His highness is currently waiting in the infirmary for Professor Manuela to attend to the wound he received on the battlefield.” Dedue explained, gesturing back in the direction Byleth had just came from. Ashe piped up as Dedue finished speaking._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I believe Edelgard is in the Black Eagle’s classroom with Hubert. I’m not sure where Claude is...” Ashe pointed to the door directly behind Byleth after mentioning the classroom. Byleth nodded and thanked the three of them for their help before turning and walking towards the door. It was bordered on both sides with red banners bearing a large golden eagle. The door to its left had similar banners, both colored blue with a knight emblazoned atop a griffin. Between the two doors stood two young women, one taller with curly blonde hair and the other shorter with red hair. The blonde, who was wearing a shawl tied over her shoulders, noticed her and waved politely. Byleth stopped and nodded to both of the girls._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“You don’t look familiar at all, who might you be?” the girl with blonde hair asked with a rather soft voice. “Are you a new student here at the Monastery?” Before Byleth could reply to the blonde girl’s question, the girl with the orange hair spoke up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Mercy, she’s a bit old to be a student here don’t you think? She must be one of those mercenaries everyone’s been all abuzz about today! I got it right, didn't I?!” Byleth nodded at the orange girls question, earning a large grin as she continued on. “Yes! I knew it. Hehehe, I’m Annette,and this is my best friend Mercedes!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“We’re student’s in the Blue Lion house here at the academy. It’s wonderful to meet you.” The blonde, Mercedes, said as she gave Byleth a warm smile. Byleth put on her best approximation of a welcoming grin, making both girls visibly uncomfortable as she introduced herself. She nodded goodbye and entered the Black Eagle classroom, seeing several students scattered around the room. Before she could take stock, however, Sothis’s voice rang through her mind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________“Perhaps it’s best if you just be yourself and not try ”emotions” until they come more naturally. Those poor girls looked as if they were worried you were about to have a conniption and your monotonous excuse for a personality was a bit less off putting, at least I think it was.” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Fine, just please make up your mind. I’m doing my best here.” Byleth muttered to herself as she looked back at the classroom. Over in one corner, a young woman with long brown curls and a hat perched at a rather precarious angle on her head stood searching through a bookshelf, while Edelgard stood next to a chalkboard with a young man whose hair was a rather sickly greenish-black. The two seemed rather deep in conversation, so Byleth went over towards the girl at the bookshelf. As she approached, the young woman noticed her and smiled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well hello now, you are most certainly not a familiar face. My name is Dorothea. Is this your first time around the Monastery? I’d be more than happy to show you around if you’d like.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’m Byleth. I work as a mercenary. You’re correct, this is my first time here, but I do seem to be finding my way around well enough.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Hmmm, pity. So you’re the devilish rogue type, eh? So dramatic. I’m a former opera performer, so I quite enjoy a flare of the dramatic. You should hear me sing some time.” Dorothea said with a giggle. Byleth, however, was completely oblivious as she caught sight of the black haired young man walking away. She decided it was time to talk to the heiress._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’ve never been to an opera, but I’ve quite enjoyed the few traveling musicians the brigade has come across. Perhaps I could hear you some time. But for now I have some business with the princess. Pardon me.” Dorothea chuckled and turned back to the book shelf as the mercenary walked away. Byleth wondered what she’d said that was so funny. She approached Edelgard._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“So, Seteth informed me you’ve been offered a teaching position here...pity. I was hoping you would lend your strength to the empire, if not your manners. But nevermind that. Have you had a chance to meet everyone here at the Black Eagles?” Byleth shook her head no. Byleth wondered for a moment at first if she had really aggravated the empress that much, but it seemed she hadn’t burnt every bridge with Edelgard just yet. The princess nodded to herself and began pulling photos of students out of a folder she picked up off of the desk behind her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“There’s Hubert, heir of Marquis Vestra. He’s a hard worker, if a bit cold blooded at times. He just left to go gather some things for me.” Edelgard showed byleth a photo of the young man who had just left, then replaced it with a photo of a tall orange haired noble. “Then there’s Ferdinand, who spends more time challenging me as his ‘bitter rival’ than actually studying. Heir to the prime minister, and his beliefs on the responsibility of the nobility are something he’s proud to declare, though I do wish he’d include ‘quiet’ to those responsibilities.” Next was a photo of a student with long dark green hair and large bags under his eyes. “Lindhart you might’ve seen buried half asleen p ia book if you passed by the library on your way here. His intellect and skill with spells is unmatched, but the fool can’t seem to find a way to put it to good use.” The next photo was of a shorter boy with shaggy blue hair “Caspar is the second son of count Bergliez, and his strength, while impressive, clearly came at the cost of his wit. It seems to be more common than I’d hoped.” She mumbled under her breath. “He seems to think that fighting everything bigger than him on this continent is the way to prove his worth. .” Next it was a photo of a girl with short messy purple hair. “Bernadetta is the daughter of Count Varley, and tends to be quite the eccentric shut in. But she is a gentle soul. I try to make sure she gets to class, but I fear even I can’t goad her into it when she has a really bad day.” Next, a young woman with intricate braids and a purple mark tattooed under her eye. “Petra is the granddaughter of the king of Brigid, A vassal state to the Empire. That’s how she became enrolled here to begin with. While she can have trouble communicating, her skill can’t be beat and she’s brilliant.” Next Edelgard held up a picture of Dorothea. Byleth cut her off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’ve met her. Former opera singer, and I’d hazard a guess that she is close to professor Manuela.” Edelgard nodded and returned the photo to the folder, chuckling a bit and throwing it back onto the desk. Byleth took that as a good sign._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I guess you could say that. They’re former members of the same troop. It seems you’ve learned about everyone.” Edelgard said matter-of-factly. The Mercenary shook her head ‘no’._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Who could I possibly be missing?” Edelgard asked, exasperated. Byleth pointed at her, and she seemed to blush a bit. “Oh, me? Well...if they’re bold enough people like to refer to me as arrogant. The more cautious of the nobility however simply calls me distant. But there’s little to do, as I will rise to become the next Adrestian Emperor no matter their idle gossip. It seems in many ways we’re nearly opposites.” Byleth was curious what she meant by that, but she thought better than to ask her to explain. She nodded and thanked Edelgard for her time before walking away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She walked around the Monastery a bit more. She had hoped to find her way to Manuela’s office, but ended up getting turned around, ending up towards the very southernmost point on the campus beside a large fishing pond and a greenhouse. Sat on the edge of the pond was a young woman with orange hair and an archers sleeve on her left arm. The girl noticed Byleth almost immediately, leapt up, and ran towards her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Hey! You’re captain Jeralt’s kid right? I’m Leonie, I was the captain’s first and best apprentice! I’m sure you’ve heard about me.” Leonie grinned cockily as she finished introducing herself and reached down taking Byleth’s hand and shaking it. Byleth had not offered it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“The name is not familiar, but nice to meet you Leonie. I’m Byleth. I'd be curious to put that ‘first and best’ to the test.” Leonie’s grin dropped a bit, but grew wider at the challenge.  
“Oh, I bet you would! I don’t care what it takes, I’m gonna show you I’m the best.” Leonie said. Leonie bid Byleth goodbye and walked away. Byleth shook her head, wondering if all of the students were going to be this strange, and walked in the opposite direction. Byleth took a moment to try and find her way back to the offices, and a few minutes later she ended up right at the doors of Manuela’s office, doors Manuela happened to be closing with an exasperated sigh. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Teenagers, I swear…” Manuela muttered under her breath as she turned to go down the hall, seeing Byleth standing a few feet away. “Oh, Professor Eisner! Dropping by so soon? Hmmmm, you don’t seem ill… Are you that smitten already? I should’ve known, it’s always the butch ones that fall the fastest.” There was a rather long silence as Byleth remained completely blank-faced. “Awww, do I have you speechless already? I tend to have that effect on people, but I’m a bit disappointed. Maybe your lil show in the hall was just that...Is your bark a bit more than your bite?” Manuela asked with a cheeky grin. Byleth shrugged and crossed her arms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’ve never had any complaints about my ‘bite’ before. But I think it’d be best to avoid mixing business and pleasure when I’m just starting here.” Manuela had a devilish grin as Byleth spoke. She’d been given a challenge, and she loved challenges. Byleth continued on. “I was hoping to see Dimitri. I heard he was in your office for medical care and wanted to talk to him about the Blue Lions.” Manuela’s expression shifted from challenged to almost laughing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I…don’t think now is the best time professor. He was recovering from a slight infection with a bit of help from some herbs I had, but it seems he has a visitor, young mister Claude.I think it’d be best to leave them be for the time being. Claude seems none too pleased at the young prince’s penchant for injury in the field, and a lovers quarrel might not be a good thing to interrupt.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Byleth wasn’t sure what was funny but the bell struck noon before she could ask further. “Oh, Look at the time! Let’s go speak to the Archbishop.” Manuela said, pushing Byleth towards the Audience Chamber. Byleth walked on, stumbling a bit due to Manuela’s rather forceful shoving, and entered the chamber. Standing at the end of the carpet was Rhea and Seteth, both of whom were chatting along with Professor Hanneman until Byleth and Manuela reached them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“How are you enjoying your time at the academy thus far? I hope you’ve found the student’s brimming with vitality and good intentions.” Rhea said, smiling peacefully. Byleth nodded in acknowledgement. Seteth spoke next._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I suppose it’s time for you three to take charge of your houses. I must note I personally am against entrusting students to someone lacking any sort of trackable history such as you miss Eisner. But the Archbishop has deemed it appropriate.” Byleth wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so she simply ignored it. She didn’t hesitate for a moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I will take charge of the Black Eagles. I have already accepted an offer for a position in the Empire from Lady Hresvelg, so it makes the most sense to serve the students of the Empire.” Rhea nodded, lips turning downward just barely at the corners._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Your heart has made its choice. All I ask is that you guide these open minds towards virtue, care, and righteousness. They are all wonderful children of the Goddess, and they bear the weight of Fodlan’s future upon their shoulders. I pray you appreciate the honor of leading them.” Rhea clasped her hands together as she finished her grand declaration, and began walking away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________“Oh my dear...how far it seems you’ve fallen in all these years.” _Sothis said, though Byleth couldn’t tell if she was speaking to Byleth or herself. Byleth was pulled from her musing by Seteth speaking up.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Professors, it would be wise to go meet your students and get acquainted. There will be a mock battle at the end of this week to gauge the students current skill level. Please do not disappoint the Archbishop. That is all.” Seteth walked away before the professors could acknowledge what he’d said. The three of them walked out of the chambers._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“So, professor, you have a job offer from Lady Edelgard in the Empire already? How’d you manage to swing that?” Manuela teased, nudging Byleth with her elbow as they all three walked down the stairs and out towards the classrooms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Oh Manuela could you for once keep your mind from the gutter? Our colleague hasn’t been on the grounds for an entire day yet and you’re already harassing her.” Hanneman griped, thumbing through a small notebook he’d pulled from one of his pockets._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“I am doing no such thing! I’m just saying there are many ways to earn such a prestigious offer.” Manuela protested. Byleth was unsure of what exactly the two were in such a huff over._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“I saved Edelgard, along with the other two house leads, from bandits that had chased them to our camp. Edelgard and Dimitri offered me positions in their service, and Edelgard’s offer was the one I accepted.” Byleth’s explanation seemed to leave Manuela disappointed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Oh, you’re no fun at all, Professor Eisner.” Manuela griped as the three reached the line of classrooms. Byleth said goodbye to the other two and walked into the now rather crowded classroom. All the students were gathered together, chatting amongst themselves as they looked intently at the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Wait, you’re our new professor?!” A loud young man Byleth recognized as Caspar shouted from the back of the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Calm yourself Caspar. Don’t be rude.” Dorothea piped up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Expecting politeness from him is a long lost cause.” Lindhart said,quickly seeming to fall asleep in his seat. Byleth wondered if she should wake him, but saw no point in it. She turned back to the class and her eyes settled on a shorter woman with purple hair who went white with terror the second they made eye contact._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Ah! W...why are you looking at me like that? Stop it! Ohhhhh, I knew the new professor was gonna be scary..” Burnadetta shied away from Byleth, backing away towards the opposite side of the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“I’m sorry for the chaos you’ve walked into, professor.” Dorothea whispered as she walked past Byleth and began speaking to Bernadetta, resting her hand on her shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“You certainly don’t seem to be the type I’d expect to teach us, but I’m sure you must be quite talented to have earned the position! I look forward to learning from you.” Ferdinand said, shouting slightly over all the chatter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“I look forward to working with all of you as well, but I must warn, from the information I’ve been given it seems most of us are rather close in age, but please do not forget that our experience is vastly different. I will do everything in my power to ensure you all learn to be strong fighters and leaders, and to make sure you live long enough to be both, but that will not be enough to keep you alive if you don’t work hard to keep yourself that way.” Byleth saw every student’s face, save for Edelgard’s and Hubert’s, drop and go a bit pale. Bernadetta continued her panicked whimpering even louder than before._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Tactful as you ever were, I see. At least this time you didn’t make them think you were about to keel over.” _Sothis teased, knowing the mercenary couldn’t retort.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“You...you have a gut professor. I will take much joy in learning with you. I will not be dieing.” Petra said, her words were a bit jumbled, but Byleth could see a determination burning in the back of her eyes. She was going to be a good leader, Byleth could tell already._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Petra, sweety, I think you mean she has guts, not a gut.” Dorothea piped up, making Petra go a bit red._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Oh, please be taking my apologies professor. I have some troubles with the language of Fodlan.” Petra corrected, rubbing the back of her head, embarrassed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Nothing taken Petra. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do to help you with lessons.” Byleth replied. Petra’s demeanor visibly brightened._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Professor, I must say I have high expectations of you, and high hopes with it. I will do as instructed, as any other student here, but I really must ask that you learn some level of manners. ” Edelgard said standing at Byleth’s side, a hand on her hip._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I have no idea what you mean by that. But I do look forward to working with you. Just know, I intend full well to push everyone to their limits, especially you. If you’re to lead an empire you’ll need to be at your best, and a noble’s easy life makes for poor preperation.” Byleth was going to continue on, but she could see Edelgard’s mouth dropped into an annoyed frown. Interactions with nobility really never were her strong suit. That was her father’s area expertise._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Maybe we should break the ice! W..what about some training? I’d love to see the new professor in action!” Caspar finished his suggestion and looked, rather desperately to the other students. The conversation seemed to devolve as Petra wondered why ice would need to be broken, and half the class attempted to explain the expression to her while the other half lemented having to train. Edelgard seemed to calm slightly, her aggravation now directed to the other students. Hubert stepped forward and chuckled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Looks like you’ll have quite a job, calming down this racket. I don’t envy you in the slightest. But I’d highly recommend ensuring you remain respectful to Lady Edelgard. I’d hate for your tongue to get you into a grave situation.” Hubert’s words dripped with malintent._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“ I hope you’ve not bitten off more than you can chew, professor.” Edelgard chimed in from Byleth’s other side, either unaware of or uninterested in Huberts comments. Byleth nodded and slid her gauntlet off of her left hand, sticking two fingers in her mouth and making a loud, piercing whistle. The entire room went silent as Byleth replaced the gauntlet onto her hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The rest of the evening was spent doing rough introductions, as Byleth assessed each student’s interests, training styles, specializations, and other information she thought important to their learning. Edelgard seemed rather uninterested in speaking to Byleth, primarily interacting with Hubert and for a short while Ferdinand. Finally, around 8 in the evening, Byleth called the day to a close and began walking towards the student’s quarters, where she’d been given a room for her time as a professor. As she was walking, looking at the numbers on each door trying to find her dorm, a loud holler rang in her ear._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Professor!” Leonie shouted, and Byleth turned to see the orange haired girl less than a foot away from her, panting and sweating slightly. “I knew I’d find you eventually! I’ve been running all over this school looking.” She took a deep breath and rested a hand on her hip. “I want to be in your class! I will not take no for an answer.” She faltered a bit after that, and Byleth got the distinct feeling she hadn’t exactly thought past this. Byleth took stock of the brash young woman and considered for a minute. Finally she shrugged._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Ok.” Byleth said, expression blank as ever._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Now listen, I said I won’t...Ok?” Leonie looked confused as she repeated the reply._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“You can join. If it’s approved by the Archbishop, or whoever approves transfers. I’ll leave that to you to find out. Better to transfer now than halfway through the year. We’re meeting at sunrise tomorrow in the classroom for our first session. Be there on time.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Leonie was beaming._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Thank you professor! You won’t regret this!” Leonie ran off cheering immediately after she finished talking. Byleth turned and entered her dorm, collapsing onto the large bed pushed up against one of the walls, her armor still in place. Her head hit the pillow and she was out like a candle in a matter of seconds._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Byleth opened her eyes a second later and found herself lying against the base of the large stone throne that Sothis was, as always, dramatically draped over._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“So,your first day of instruction come and gone yet again. How does it feel?” Sothis asked, looking over her shoulder at Byleth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“It’s interesting, to say the least. They seem like good kids. I just pray to the goddess I can keep them safe.” Byleth mumbled her reply, but Sothis heard it all the same. She nodded along._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I remember, you said much the same when we first met them. But I don’t think you have any room to call them kids, dear Byleth. You’re barely a year or two older than many of them.” Sothis remarked. She thought best not to point out the irony in praying to the goddess while, well, speaking to the goddess._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“You...you keep talking about us going through all this before...what happens? Why have we done this so many times? If what you say is true why do I have no memory of it?” Byleth’s question seemed to strike a chord with Sothis. She sighed and turned over, looking down past the arm of her throne at the professor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I….I honestly do not know. I only remember bits and pieces. The first few months always seem to go rather well….then there’s just flashes of chaos. I remember bits and pieces, us guiding the students through misty fields and rocky canyons, a monstrous tower, but after that it’s just...dark. So empty and dark in every direction. That’s all I can remember. I see things after that but it’s different. They feel as if someone else’s memories are invading my mind, and they hurt me when I try and recall them.” Sothis became more and more strained after each sentence, as if the words were physically assailing her. Byleth desperately wanted to know more, but she could feel a piercing pain creeping into the back of her mind. She’d have to wait to find out more. She reached up and rested her hand on Sothis’s shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“It’s ok...don’t strain yourself.” Byleth said. Sothis sighed and let her eyes flutter open, looking back at Byleth and smiling._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I don’t know what you did last time Byleth, but ...you certainly know how to keep things interesting.” Sothis heaved a heavy sigh. “I think I need to sleep....and it’s getting close to time for you to go do your job.” Byleth nodded and went to stand up, but when she did, she felt herself sitting up in bed. Her second day had begun._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left a hint or two throughout this chapter for a few fun things coming up that I'll be very surprised if anyone can guess. I enjoy this chapter a lot, since it is definitely more different from canon than the first chapter was, and let me play a bit more with Byleth's character in this "Mercenary Byleth" archetype, but I'm excited to post the other chapters coming up because the little differences now make big changes later. Hope you all enjoyed the update! See you next Monday.


	3. A Daughter's Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Eagle's face the Mock Battle head on, and out of that trial comes a new friend and comrade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Y'all! Here's chapter 3! Hope you all enjoy it very much. This is the chapter where I feel like things really start to take a more distinct form of their own, aside from just being a re-skin of the canon plot. I am very excited for some of the bigger pieces that are starting to get laid out here at this point, and will have some more foundation built up for the rest of the fic. 
> 
> P.S. there's a question I have for y'all in the end of chapter note.

Byleth heard the bell tower ring and sat up slowly from her bed, the light from the dawning sun practically blinding her. She looked around, groggily, and saw her room scattered with her few worldly possessions. Over the past week her room had become rather messy, with scattered pieces of her armor spread out on her desk and several identical tunics and pairs of pants piled up around on the floor. 

Byleth slid, or more accurately fell, out of the bed and quickly donned her clothes and armor.The day of the mock battle had finally arrived and she had no intention of being late. A few minutes after she finished fastening everything into place, a knock came from her door. She opened it and there stood Edelgard. 

“Professor, the others are gathered at the training ground.” The heiress reported. She was not the most talkative with Byleth, but she had yet to be disrespectful in the few days of training they’d had so far. Byleth grabbed her gauntlets and slid them into place, walking out of her door and alongside Edelgard to the meeting area that had been set aside for the Black Eagles. The first few minutes of the walk were quiet, nothing to be heard except the sound of stone crunching under their boots. As they drew closer, she thought it might be good to at least try and build some sort of rapport with the head of her house. 

“How are the other students feeling?” She asked, trying to cast out a line, any kind of line in hopes of a bite.

“They’re nervous.” Edelgard’s reply came back, short and blunt, but it was still something. 

“And you?” Byleth quirked an eyebrow as she asked. 

“This is barely anything more than a sparring match. I have more pressing issues.” Edelgard’s tone, while still tense, was a tiny bit more relaxed. “Besides, this is my chance to measure your worth as an instructor. Do you think you’ll rise to the occasion?” 

“Just you wait. You’ve seen me on the field, and I’m not alive after this many years for lack of talent.” Edelgard made a noise Byleth almost thought could be a chuckle. 

“Such confidence. For all that could be said, at least you keep things interesting. But that aside, each of us has trained and we’re prepared to take on whatever comes our way. Do not hold back, whether on us in the future or on our opponents today.”

Byleth nodded and the duo met with the rest of the Black Eagles. Greetings and pleasantries were kept to a minimum, and soon enough Byleth, Edelgard, Leonie, Dorothea, and Hubert moved towards the battlefield while the rest of the class cheered them on from behind. The small group moved to the designated starting location and waited for the signal. A bell rang throughout the field and the Eagles rushed forward. The group ran around a corner and saw two paths, one leading through a tight grove of trees. Byleth pointed to the opposite path that ran around the tree bank and the group continued down that path.

Suddenly, from around a tree in front of them popped out Ashe Duran of the Blue Lions. The adopted child of Lord Lonato’s shock of solver-white hair was unmistakable. On Byleth’s order Hubert and Leonie split away from the other three, charging at Ashe while the raf of the class ran past. 

Leonie smacked the Blue Lion across the head with the blunt end of her training lance before Hubert cast a wind spell throwing the dazed student against a nearby tree. Leonie gestured for Hubert to go on and the two began running back to the main group who were now dealing with Dimitri and Dedue. 

The rest of the Blue Lions were dealt with swiftly, and the Eagles began moving to take down the Golden Deer. On Byleth’s order, Dorothea and Hubert moved as quietly as possible through the woods while Edelgard and Leonie charged alongside her around the tree bank. 

They rounded the trees and came up behind Hanneman and the Golden Deer students. Hanneman was standing on a similar pedestal to that Manuela had been standing in. Clearly someone in their group had anticipated that they would either be attacked from the front path or from behind, as Hanneman was facing the oncoming Eagles while Claude and Hilda were facing forward. However that quickly changed when they heard the three sets of heavy footsteps charging them. The three Eagles charged Hanneman, but thanks to a pair of well aimed shots from Claude Leonie was forced to redirect, and instead chose to charge Claude and Hilda alone.

Byleth threw a jab at the mustachioed professor, which he nimbly dodged before launching a wind spell at her that threw her into one of the pillars surrounding the pedestal. Edelgard swung her training axe and slammed it into his side, which gave Byleth a chance she took immediately. She stood back up and charged. Another wind spell was hurled, this time at Edelgard, which sent her rolling back in the dirt. Byleth sent a right hook into the side of the man’s jaw, sending him stumbling to the side. Edelgard hastily crawled her way up off of the ground and swung her training axe at the back of Hanneman’s legs, knocking him onto his back and finally drawing out his surrender. 

Leonie charged forward towards Claude and Hilda, looking between the two of them and deciding Claude was the biggest threat. Hilda was always a bit spacey whenever they talked, and she figured that type of attitude wouldn’t pose much threat in a fight. She lunged forward with her lance and was so close to landing a strike, but the archer moved just barely out of the path of her spear sending her stumbling. She managed the right herself, and dodged out of the way of one of Claude’s blunted arrows, leaving her back to Hilda who swung her axe into Leonie’s side. The strike sent an immense pain through her body, but she charged forward again and swung her lance’s handle out, trying to catch Claude in the jaw but it barely caught his shoulder. The hit landed faster than she expected, leaving her slightly off balance and Hilda kicked her legs out from under her before swung her axe down. Leonie barely rolled out of it’s path and jumped up back to her feet. ‘Goddess, this girl is brutal.’ Leonie thought as she stood there, lance at the ready. Claude and Hilda both eyed her, ready to pounce but staying out of reach until they struck. 

“Give up, Leonie! You’re outnumbered.” Hilda said with a cocky grin. 

“Calm down, Hilda. Don’t let your guard…” Claude’s sentence was cut off by a large stone slamming into his side, making him grunt in pain. Hubert and Dorothea stepped out of the forest, Dorothea clutching another rock and smiling as she hurled it at Hilda with unattural speed. The pink haired girl managed to dodge out of the way. 

“They said we could only use wind spells, but they never said we had to cast them on people.” Dorothea said with a wink at Leonie. The lancer chuckled and shook her head at the songstress’s antics. “Sorry we were late sweets. The woods are a lot harder to walk through than the paths.” 

“Perhaps if you weren’t trying to walk around them in high heels, Dorothea.” Leonie teased. Hubert sighed, exasperated. 

“Could you two please wait until after the battle is done to chatter away.” He said, sending Claude stumbling back into a nearby tree with another wind spell. Hilda charged forward and swung her axe at Dorothea, hitting the songstress in her shoulder. Leonie lunged out with the handle of her lance in retaliation, smashing into the side of Hilda’s jaw and knocking the girl out cold. Hubert, Leonie and Dorothea all turned, ready to attack Claude, but the leader of the Deer was stood weaponless and with both hands up. 

“I give up…” he wheezed, his breath having left him when he made intimate connections with the nearest ficas. “We all know I’m not going to win against all three of you, and unlike Dimitri I'm not too excited about the prospect of getting beat to hell.” Claude said, walking off towards the campus. 

Jeralt announced their victory, and the Eagles, both those who’d been in the fight and their classmates, congealed into a giant cheering mass with Edelgard and Hubert stood awkwardly off to one side. Edelgard had an unmistakable smile on her face, and it only faded to a dull grin when she saw Byleth approach the cheering students. 

“You were right, Professor. I was not disappointed.” Edelgard said. 

“I’m glad I could impress. You were a good ally in the field.” Byleth said with a nod, causing Edelgards grin to grow. 

“Thank you. Perhaps your appointment to instructor was not such an unfortunate turn of fate for the Eagles after all.” Edelgard said, the giant mass of students moving over to them as they spoke. 

“You were wondrous, Professor! Here is to hoping this victory is the one of many!” Petra cheered. 

“Hahaha, maybe I've got a run for my money with you after all, Professor.” Leonie jokes from the back of the group.

“Most assuredly! Hehehe, truly an appropriately theatrical performance, if I do say so myself.” Dorothea chimed in from beside Petra, still clutching a rather intimidating rock. 

“So that is what it looks like when you don’t hold back, huh professor?!” Ferdinand piped up as Hubert grumbled from the sidelines. 

“I think we should acknowledge just how much we owe this victory to Lady Edelgard.” he said quietly. Lindhardt looked confused and as if he were about to say something when Caspar rested a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head ‘no’.

“That was truly terrifying, Professor! I hope I’ve never gotta see the receiving end of that...” Bernadetta said, actually managing to muster up a sentence. Byleth thought it was a compliment, but was not quite sure. Edelgard chuckled at the large group as they all began moving towards the dining hall to celebrate. 

“You all are ridiculous.” Edelgard shook her head at the class’s antics as she spoke. “But take this as a lesson! When we fight together, we win!” The Eagles cheered.

The Black Eagle’s made their way to the dinning hall to spend the evening celebrating their victory. On the way out of the training grounds however, Leonie saw Ashe still sat under the tree that Hubert had thrown the poor kid into, and she decided to walk over and check that he was ok. Leonie walked over and offered Ashe a hand up, which was gratefully taken. 

“Wow, you all really were impressive.” Ashe commented, wiping off some dirt and bark. Leonie chuckled and wiped a piece of bark off of one of Ashe’s shoulders. 

“Thanks. Sorry about going a bit hard on you. I feel like we didn’t really give you a chance sneaking up on you like that.” Leonie said, a bit embarrassed. She had a knack for going a bit too far.

“Hey, don’t worry about it! It’s like Lord Lonato always says, failure is the best guide to improvement! However difficult improvement might be with how ...uh...interesting Professor Manuela’s style of teaching is at times.” Ashe said, gesturing towards Manuela and the rest of the Lions who were walking back towards campus. 

“I’ve heard some interesting stories from guards around the monastery about her. Hahaha, I just hope for your sake she does better at teaching than trying to seduce Professor Eisner.” Leonie joked, nudging Ashe with her elbow. 

“Wait, really!?” Ashe asked, practically shouting. Leonie was a bit taken aback, and Ashe clearly noticed before awkwardly trying to salvage the conversation. “I...I just mean that must’ve been funny to see. I can’t imagine Professor Eisner taking too kindly to that sort of thing. Hahaha.” 

“From the sounds of it, the professor was giving as much as she was being given, but still sounds like it crashed and burned. If the gossip is to be believed that is.” Leonie said. Ashe’s eyes again picked up a rather interesting excitement. 

“Really? That’s…rather interesting. Um, have a good rest of the night Leonie, I’ll see you around!” And like that Ashe was gone, running off to the rest of the Lions. Leonie cocked her head to the side, mumbling something about “why is everyone in this school so damned weird” and shaking her head before going to rejoin her classmates.

The Eagles were all chattering and cheering over a large dish of sweetbread that Byleth had managed to convince the kitchen to supply. How exactly, no one really knew. 

The former mercenary reached down for a small fruit tart from the tray as the class all droned on about the battle and their plans for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion that was a few months away. She felt a gloved hand bump against her own and looked to see it belonged to Edelgard, who’d been reaching blindly for the same tart as she spoke to Hubert. Edelgard looked over and saw the professor’s hand already on the tart, and gave a slightly embarrassed look.

“Oh ...my apologies, professor.” Edelgard said, drawing her hand back. Byleth shrugged and slid the tart closer to the heiress on the tray. 

“No apologies needed Edelgard. Here, take it. You clearly enjoy them much more than I do.” Byleth said as she took her hand away from the pastry. Edelgard didn’t hesitate, taking the sweet and biting into it. 

“Thank you, professor.” Edelgard said after swallowing her bite. 

”I am quite surprised to see the future Empress has such a fondness for something so common as sweetbreads.” Byleth’s comment seemed to make the heiress rather embarrassed, her cheeks turning red as she took another bite from the pastry before returning to conversing with Hubert. A little while after that Byleth decided it was time for her to depart. 

So many of the students were distracted by their own conversations, flirtations and diatribes that she managed to sneak out unnoticed, or at least not commented on. The air was cool on the campus as she stepped out of the dining hall. A soft wind blew from the north and rustled the trees near her. 

_“It is such a nice night… I wonder just how many of these we will get.” _Sothis pondered, her voice ringing through Byleth’s mind.__

__“The weather is nice, yes. I’m glad to hear you seem to be feeling better.”. Byleth whispered._ _

___“My mind feels less fractured than it did, yes. But whether that is a result of the cracks being mended, or simply being put under less strain, is yet to be seen.” _____

____“Well whatever it is, hopefully it lasts.” Byleth rounded the corner as she spoke_ _ _ _

_____“I feel a distinct doubt we have that level of luck left in us.” _Sothis muttered under her breath, even though her voice rang as loudly as ever. Byleth saw something in the shadows that covered the steps leading to her doorway. Her fists balled up and she bent her knees, dropping into her readied stance as she approached, prepared for anything.___ _ _ _

______Well, anything but seeing Ashe Duran of the Blue Lions sat on the stoop in front of her dormitory. That surprised even Byleth. She relaxed her stance and stepped closer into the light in front of the young student._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hello.” Byleth’s voice clearly startled the young Lion, as Ashe jumped up after finally noticing her presence._ _ _ _ _ _

______“P...professor! I hadn’t seen you there!” Ashe said, shoulders quite obviously tense._ _ _ _ _ _

______“That’s rather apparent, young man. Is there a reason you’re perched outside of my quarters?” Byleth asked, rather tired at this point. Ashe went a bit red and frowned. Had her remark been that cutting, or were students at this school really so fragile?_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I…” Ashe froze for just a moment, eyes going a bit wide with nerves before finally seeming to have been shaken out of it and speaking again.“I want to transfer into your class.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth crossed her arms, hand resting on her chin as she looked Ashe up and down, sizing the young student up. What was going on with these kids? Leonie one week and then Ashe the next? At least Leonie had her strange obsession with being Byleth’s rival to justify her transfer. What possible reason could Ashe have?_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Why?” Byleth’s question seemed to take Ashe off guard, as if Byleth had been expected to just agree immediately. Or perhaps Ashe expected the opposite? Either way Byleth got the distinct impression this little plot hadn’t been very well thought out._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I… I saw your skill on the battlefield today. I want to learn from you. I’ve wanted to learn about Axe combat and brawling for years, and you seem better equipped to teach me that then Professor Manuela.” Ashe said, words seemingly stumbling out more than an actual thought-out argument. Byleth nodded along with Ashe’s reply to her question. She had no reason to doubt someone who seemed like a genuine enough kid, but she was put off by the rather obvious lie, or at least half truth, she was being fed. But what possible alterior motive could a student have for wanting to change classes? Byleth already knew the rather brutal nature of her physical training routine was commonly known around campus, so it couldn’t be that Ashe expected an easy year with her, so she really couldn’t see any harm in it._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fine. Meet us at the Black Eagle classroom tomorrow at sunup. We’ll be doing our physical training so dress appropriately. Inform Professor Manuela and submit a letter to the Archbishop.” Ashe smiled from ear to ear, Byleth had already begun walking past and towards her dorm so the many exclamations of thanks were lost on deaf ears as she closed her door with a heavy thud._ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth dropped herself onto the bed, slowly undoing her armor where she lay until she was sufficiently undressed and was able to drift off to a merciful, dreamless sleep._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Several days later, and some distance away in a large redstone canyon, a scruffy bearded bandit was speaking to what appeared to be a tall man in an intricate white and red suit of armor. ‘His’ face was covered with a mask that had the look of painted porcelain and was covered in intricate patterns._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What the hell happened?! All we were told was kill the nobles, and yet we ran head first into the knights of Seiros and a band of mercenaries!” The bandit screamed at the ‘man’. A sigh escaped Edelgard’s lips and came out a rattling, metallic noise thanks to the mask she wore._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You proved yourself worthless, that is what happened. I had hoped you would achieve your goal and rid me of the thorns in my side, despite the knights and the setback they presented. But not only did you fail, your actions lead to the former knight captain and his daughter becoming tangled in the plans to come.” The Flame Emperor exclaimed at the bandit. Edelgard’s voice rang out, like the ring of a sword that had just crashed against armor. It had a heavy metallic vibration underlying every breath and word._ _ _ _ _ _

______“We didn’t sign up to fight a bunch of knights! You said kill the nobles, we aimed to do that! Just tell me how we finish this mess up.” The bandit tried to defend himself, but the Flame Emperor was clearly more focused on her own mutterings._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What was that woman thinking, hiring such a boorish mercenary to be a professor. She can fight, clearly, but the woman has all the strategic prowess of a drunk bear. If the Archbishop keeps making decisions like this our job may be easier then we planned.” With that, the figures attention snapped to the bandit again. “You underestimated the challenge, an amatuer mistake to say the least. Now your only option is to die. You’re on a road to nothing but a rather brutal and painful end, and now I must locate a more properly adequate replacement.” Before the bandit could raise a protest, a bright flash of red light engulfed the figure, and by the time the light had disappeared, so had ‘he’._ _ _ _ _ _

______Another few days later, Rhea requested to speak to Byleth and Edelgard in the Audience Chamber. When Rhea entered the chamber, she spoke to Byleth first._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You have done a wonderful job so far working with the students. It’s clear your renown is not unearned. I hope you have been able to find some time to bond with your students.” Rhea said as Seteth took a position beside her. Byleth nodded, and she could swear Edelgard whispering something to herself, but Byleth’s attention was grabbed again by the Archbishop. “Wonderful! Just remember, the mock battle is nothing compared to the grand Battle of the Eagle and Lion later this year. That is the true challenge, and will be an opportunity to truly show your skill.” Seteth coughed, and when Rhea went quiet he began to speak._ _ _ _ _ _

______“But, until then, we have your houses first official mission in service to the church. You’ll be tracking the bandits which attempted to kill the heads of the three houses just a few weeks ago. You’ll be notified as soon as the knights have found them, and I highly recommend you use this time wisely and train your students well. Is this understood?” Seteth quirked a brow at Byleth as he spoke, to which the young professor replied with a nod and a simple ‘understood’. “Good. Our students have been learning about combat through study, but this is a precious opportunity to teach them through practical experience. But be careful, this is no mock battle. Be prepared for anything. Both of you, use your time wisely.” Byleth and Edelgard both bowed and turned to leave the room._ _ _ _ _ _

______As they walked down the stairs towards the main campus Byleth could practically feel the heat from the rage burning off of Edelgard. The girl was not good at masking her emotions, Byleth had learned that much already. It was silent for a good portion of the walk until Edelgard finally broke the silence._ _ _ _ _ _

______“The last time we faced bandits, you saved me. Hopefully this will give me the opportunity to make that debt even.” Edelgard's tone was one of obligation, but that olive branch was something, or at least Byleth hoped it was an olive branch and not a switch with which to further attack her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Do you mean to say you hope I am put in mortal peril, Edelgard?” Byleth asked, intending it as a joke but her tone was as unreadable as it ever was. Edelgard chuckled a bit, and Byleth enjoyed the sound._ _ _ _ _ _

______“No. I wouldn’t say that at all, Professor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and finish the assignment you gave us yesterday.” And before Edelgard had even finished her sentence she started walking off into the distance. Byleth sighed to herself, and a familiar ringing came through her mind._ _ _ _ _ _

_______“You two really never did make much sense to me. Especially since you really have no tact when it comes to socializing.” _Sothis commented. Byleth sighed again and shook her head.___ _ _ _ _ _

________“That seems so, to say the least.” Byleth muttered, walking towards the classroom. Sothis chuckled as Byleth walked through the door. It seemed the first half of her comment was lost on the poor fool._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A few students were scattered around the various shelves and desks that cluttered the room. Petra, Dorothea, and Leonie sat around the fireplace chatting about Petra’s life in Brigid. It seemed to be rather exciting, based on the way Dorothea was paying attention. Ashe sat at a desk nearby, reading away at some text Byleth couldn’t read the title of. Byleth noticed Ashe look up from the book, only to immediately return back to reading once the transfer student noticed her walking past. Ferdinand, Caspar and Linhardt all sat around a desk, Linhardt fast asleep as always while Ferdinand and Caspar spoke excitedly about training plans._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Byleth sat at her desk, which faced the entryway to the classroom, and began checking her notes. There was a rather obtuse set of pages where she had gathered most every student's preferences and talents, but now she had to begin to figure out how to refine their skills, and what to refine them into. This had turned out to be much more exhaustively academic than Byleth had anticipated. She had always been a mercenary, even before she was old enough to fight she would train with or even just watch the other mercenaries when they trained and fought. Fighting was the thing she was good at. Academics? That eluded her. Her handwriting was chicken scratch, and her experience with magic was next to non-existent. History had always struck her as a fool’s errand to study. What is the point of learning about what those long dead did when you could join them at any moment if you aren’t careful? But Byleth supposed that she’d have to learn rather quickly if she intended to actually prepare her students for the world outside of the Monastery._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Slowly the students trickled out of the classroom, while Byleth remained there, sat at her desk, pouring over her own notes as well as texts on Faith and Reason training. Byleth had a sneaking suspicion it was going to be a long night, and many more were to come._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The next few weeks went on without much if any incident. Byleth had decided to try a routine consisting of alternating physical training days and study days within the classroom. While this may give a bit more physical instruction to the magic users than they’d necessarily need and give the fighters and sword wielders more magical and theoretical instruction, as Hubert was more than willing to repeatedly inform her of, Byleth knew these students were training to be officers. Being able to think as well as fight was a necessity. Besides, it seemed to be working so far._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Byleth stood on the edge of the training field as the students ran laps past her. Linhardt was going at a pace that could generously be called jogging, while Caspar and Ferdinand were both sprinting wildly, trying to outpace each other. Byleth whistled, signaling an end to the laps, and the student’s gathered up around her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Allright. Today’s drills are about defensive fighting. I want each of you to pair off with someone who’s skill set is antagonistic to yours, and one of you attacks while the other blocks, then vice versa. Leonie, Ashe, you two pair off and I want you running your lance and axe. Ferdinand, Hubert, I want you running sword and magic. Dorothea, Petra you two run sword and axe. Bernadetta, I want you to work with Edelgard, Caspar, you work with Lindhart. ” Byleth saw each group pair off and grab their training weapons as she finished her instruction. Bernadetta nervously walked towards Byleth, clutching her training bow in her hands._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Pr...professor, someone’s watching us train.” Bernadetta pointed over towards the tree line as she spoke. Byleth followed her finger to see Jeralt, who waved from his position leaned up against a tree._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Don’t worry Bernadetta, it’s simply the captain of the knights. I’ll see what he wants. Practice as usual.” Byleth walked off before Bernadetta could reply._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You are making my students uncomfortable, staring at them from the shadows.” Byleth said as she finally got close enough to speak. Jeralt laughed, although he wasn’t entirely sure if that was meant to be a joke or not. He moved away from the tree and began to speak._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Don’t worry. I’m just here to bring a message from the Archbishop. They’ve located the bandits you’re set to hunt down. They’re in Zanado, the Red Canyon. Apparently the knights were able to push them into the deepest portion of the canyon and have the only entrance and exit blocked, so they won’t be going anywhere. Lady Rhea wants your house out of here at dawn tomorrow. It’s about a day and a halfs trek to the canyon, so make sure your students pack enough supplies.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Understood. I’ll inform the students after drills.” Byleth replied. Jeralt smiled at her and rested his hand on her shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“A real battle this time huh? This’ll be most of your students first real fight. Take care of them, kid. They’ll need you to watch out for them.” Byleth nodded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I will. They’re good kids. They’ve learned a lot already.” Byleth’s statement made Jeralt laugh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You say that with all the sincerity of some war-haggard old veteran as opposed to someone who’s barely past being a kid themselves. I’m sure they’ll do fine. I never taught you much about tactics, but you’re good in the heat of the moment and at making good calls on the fly on the battlefield. Now, get back to your students. I’ll see you when you get back.” Jeralt wrapped Byleth in a hug, before walking back to the Monastery. Byleth returned to her class._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Ashe swung out at the Leonie with a blunted axe, and she just barely managed to block the swing with the handle of her lance. She swung around and aimed the tip of her lance right at Ashe’s abdomen, but her shot missed as Ashe lunged back out of her way, landing on the ground before swiftly jumping up and returning with another axe swing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Cmon Ashe, you’re not getting anywhere close!” Leonie taunted as she swung out with the blunt end of her lance. Ashe blocked the strike and shoved Leonie back before swinging out in her direction. The axe came within an inch of hitting Leonie, but she managed to miss the blunt wooden blade. Ashe swung a follow-up strike, but before it could hit Leonie ducked underneath the axe and knocked Ashe’s legs out with the pole of her lance. Ashe hit the ground with a thud and the axe went sailing off towards the trees as Leonie pointed her lance tip at Ashe’s chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Your footwork is getting sloppy. You gotta keep your base solid or you’ll just be begging to get knocked onto your ass. Quite unbecoming of a young noble lord don’t you think?” Leonie chuckled and held out her hand as she spoke. Ashe, who’d been laughing just a second ago took her hand quietly and stood._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yeah, I suppose it is.” Ashe said before walking off to grab the axe which was now lost somewhere in the tall grass. Leonie wondered if her teasing had really been that cutting, but Ashe was always so strange it was hard to tell. “Could he just be in some mood? He’s never been a sore loser before.” Leonie wondered to herself. Ashe found the axe and returned._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Hey, y’know you did really good today. Even if you’re a bit clumsy.” Leonie laughed awkwardly to herself, and Ashe shot her an almost pitiful grin._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Thanks Leonie. That means a lot coming from you.” Ashe said, rubbing the side of the leg Leonie had knocked out during the fight. until the professor’s loud whistle rang across the field, signaling for their return. Leonie began walking toward the professor,and Ashe joined her a few seconds later. The whole pack of students formed around the professor, sweaty and bruised._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Word has just been sent from the Archbishop. The bandit’s we’re hunting have been found roughly a day and a half away from here. We’ll be leaving at dawn tomorrow. Make sure to pack well, but pack light. The last thing we need is one of you being so exhausted from the hike you can’t even stand to fight. Pack enough rations for four days, a bedroll, proper clothing, and any other necessities.” Byleth instructed from the center of the ring of students._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yes! I can’t wait to get this started! Rugged trekking through the woods and a battle!? Those bandits will never know what hit them!” Caspar cheered from behind Byleth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Just be careful your stench doesn’t attract any feral beasts to our campsite in the night, Caspar.” Ferdinand chimed in, punching the blue haired Eagle in the shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I quite like camping. The stars are wonderful to sleep under. I just hope the dew doesn’t damage my books…” Lindhart sleepily chimed in, sat at the base of a nearby tree._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Lord Lanato always loved camping! I can help set up the camp so that our food won’t attract any kind of wild critters!” Ashe said, grinning from ear to ear._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“W...wait, camping?! Like...in the woods? In the open? Where something could get you from any direction...oh dear! I’m gonna be bear food for sure!” Bernadetta grimaced and buried her face in her hands. Dorothea and Petra walked up behind her, Dorothea placing her hands on the archers shoulder and patting softly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Oh there there Bern, you’re not gonna get eaten by a bear. You’ll have all of us around to keep you safe.” Bernadetta looked up from her hands as Dorothea spoke, almost seeming to feel better about the prospect._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yes! Being eaten is very unlikely! Bears are hibernating this time of year, it would be much more likely you’d die from bandits than any sort of bear, Bernadetta!” Petra said cheerfully. Bernadetta proceeded to run off screaming._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Thank you so much for helping neutralize that situation, Petra, your contributions are invaluable.” Hubert muttered sarcastically. Dorothea shot him a glare before walking off in the same direction Bernadetta had ran._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You all heard the professor. Pack accordingly and meet at the front gate at dawn!” Edelgard shouted, and each student ran off towards the campus to pack. Byleth was about to walk towards campus as well, when she saw Edelgard and Hubert speaking together, stood completely still._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Aren’t you two going to pack as well?” Byleth asked_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“We are already both packed. I had my pack prepared with enough supplies to last for at least a week's journey when the archbishop informed us of the mission.” Edelgard said, rather pleased with herself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yes. We encouraged the others to prepare ahead of time as well. But it seems none of them heeded it, which is hardly shocking. Those who do not prepare are fools in the best of cases. Let us hope their idiocy doesn’t get any of them killed.” Hubert said, his grin was openly smug._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Hmmm, I certainly hope not. That would be most unfortunate. What will you do for the rest of the day, then?” Byleth asked, crossing her arms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Not much beyond recuperating from today’s training. Sore muscles make for a rather long trek. What of you, Professor?” Edelgard asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Well, I need to go pack my bag.” Byleth said with a shrug, walking away before her sentence was even finished._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Tho I don't quite think you'd be reading this if you didn't. Someone last week mentioned that it felt a bit quick for Leonie to join the Eagles on day 1,and Ashe is only exacerbating that point, but I swear I have a plan in the long-term for this and I assessed the pros and cons and saw more pro's than cons this route. I'll also Give a slight spoiler that this is the last student to join, as I've got all the pawns I need for my dastardly schemes. 
> 
> Also, I have a question relating to tags because this is my first real fic. There's a certain pairing and one or two plot points that I want to play close to my chest and give people the opportunity to be genuinely surprised by, but I also know tags can be important for folks trying to avoid certain topics. So I wanna ask my readers would you prefer me to wait to add tags until chapters come up with these certain plot-drops and have warnings at the start of the chapter, or just have me add the tags now and let you all watch and try to see how things play out?


	4. Chapter 4: Alone in My Castle (and Throne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first mission, the first fight, the first kill. How does one lead someone through a struggle they never had to face? When your world is brutal in its simplicity, how do you guide someone dealing with the intricacy of emotion? Fake it till you make it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Extra long update this week cus I wanted to keep the mission as one chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

The class gathered at the front gate as the sun began to crest over the distant hills. Once everyone was gathered together Byleth led the team out onto the main road out of Garreg Mach. The Black Eagles’ first mission had officially begun. Things started well as the students seemed to rather enjoy the march, as if it was a nature hike. There were, however, a few comments from a certain tired student. 

“But really professor, why such a long arduous walk when a cart would be so much faster?” Lindhart mumbled from beside her. 

“Because traveling by cart or carriage when you're with soldiers on foot is a sign of a weak officer. The right opponent will see a weak officer and a demoralized army and know how to turn one against the other. That’s why even the commander of the mercenary brigade I belonged to, who specializes in mounted combat, walks when his troops are in transit. It also helps build endurance. A weak officer is bad for a battalion’s morale.” Byleth explained. Lindhart sighed, seemingly appeased by the answer if not pleased by his still being obligated to walk. Edelgard’s eyes seemed to linger on her for a moment too long, though Byleth could not read her expression. The rest of the day’s walk went by without much incident, and as night drew closer the class found a large clearing in the woods off of the path to set camp in. 

Byleth had several students gathered around her as she showed them the process of building a fire at the center of their camp. Linhardt asked why they’d need to know such rudimentary knowledge when any mage could simply wave his hand and spawn fire. Hubert made, for what Byleth thought must be the first time, a comment in her defense and asked what Linhardt would do if he’d exhausted his magic in a battle. Linhardt shrugged. 

The camp was steadily constructed as the students worked to pitch their tents while Byleth began making something resembling a dinner. 

As they finished pitching their tents and setting their bedrolls Byleth had finally managed to create a rather decent smelling, if not looking, meal. Byleth began handing out bowls to each student as they sat down around the fire. Finally she filled her own and began eating alongside the students. There was a long silence, interrupted only by the sound of chewing and tearing meat, the latter usually coming from Byleth. After everyone had eaten their fill, the students began to chat among themselves until Byleth spoke up. 

“Listen up! Tomorrow will be most of you all’s first real fight. You’ve all grown considerably since the mock battle, and if you are careful I have no doubt that you'll make it out of this alive. But, you’re still students, and that isn’t certain. Especially if every one of you are only focused on fending for yourself. You’re training to be officers, but as of right now, you’re soldiers and you are my responsibility. If I speak, you need to listen. I will never give you an order that I think will get you killed. But most importantly if you hear someone get hurt, help them. On the battlefield, you and your comrades are the only ones you can count on. Not instructors back at the monastery, not your family or a priest, not even the goddess herself. If you can’t rely on the people around you, if you can’t trust them to watch your back they trust you with the same, people will die.” Bernadetta squealed at Byleth’s words, and several students looked down or away. Hubert and Edelgard both seemed to have that same strange look in their eyes that Edelgard had given her on the trail.

“I promise, I will do everything I can to make sure we all walk home safe and sound, but…just watch out for each other.” Byleth’s words left the entire camp engulfed in silence that dragged on for what felt like hours. Each student did whatever they could to look Byleth in the eye save for Hubert and Edelgard.

“Thank you for that, Professor.” Edelgard said, standing up. “But I do believe it’s growing late. Perhaps it would be best to call an end to the evening and allow us all some rest.” 

“That’s a fair point, Edelgard.” Byleth gestured towards Hubert and Ferdinand. “Aegir, Vestra, I want you two to stand guard over the camp. Wait until the moon is up in the dead center of the sky, and then wake up Ashe and Leonie. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my tent.” The class replied with weak goodbyes as Byleth wandered off to her tent. While every student had a single tent that was barely big enough for the larger students, Byleth’s professorial tent was big enough for at least three people, more even. 

_“You really have so little faith in them?” _Sothis’s voice rang through Byleth’s mind as the professor undid her armor and prepared to sleep. She shook her head.__

__“What would ever give you that idea?” Byleth’s voice, for once, was at full volume as she spoke to the goddess haunting her mind._ _

___“I wonder. I said nothing to your little diatribe to the three brats when you first met them, the lancer and archer, and Edelgard and such, but there’s a strong difference between speaking to people you barely know and students you are supposed to be instilling some form of confidence in. And even farther, as the “goddess” you so energetically dismissed any hope in, I’d say I’m one of their key assets. Or have you forgotten completely about my abilities? You don’t seem to have acquired more head trauma than your usual, so I can’t imagine you’d forget something like being able to rewind time itself.”_ _ _

____“I have not forgotten, no. But in my defense, if my headaches are any indication you’re still straining to piece together a past I’ve got no memory of to begin with. I have a great debt to you for saving me but I can’t rely on that, and they can’t either. I have to teach them how to take care of themselves, and that doesn’t come from relying on a god. That comes from learning to rely on yourself and your allies.”_ _ _ _

_____“Oh you are so stubborn! I am not some wistful feather, here one moment and blown away, gone the next. I am sadly stuck here in the baren emptiness you seem to call a mind, and until that changes my power is available to you as needed. So use them! Ugh, Just go to sleep, you oaf. Your pessimistic musings bore and depress me more than this empty throne room.” _And with that, Sothis was gone, and Byleth was finally allowed to sleep.__ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Back in the clearing, the students began breaking off into small groups, wandering towards groupings of tents as they chatted among themselves. Dorothea, Petra, and Bernadetta were gathered together in front of their tents._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ooooooh, I don’t want to die!” Bernadetta groaned, sat on the ground hugging her legs to her chest._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Berni, don’t worry, you’re not going to die.” Dorothea muttered, rather exhausted, as she rubbed Bernadetta’s back. Petra was staying rather silent. “Just go ahead and lay down. I’m sure that Hubie and Ferdinand will keep good watch over the camp.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ok…” Bernadetta mumbled, looking down for a moment before she got a nervous look on her face. “Hey Dorothea…Petra...are...are we friends?” She asked, looking between the two of them. The two girls looked at eachother, neither sure how to react. Petra moved closer to Bernadetta’s other side._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Bernadetta, of course we’re friends. I thought that’d been rather plain for some time now. Whatever would make you ask something like that?” Dorothea asked, wrapping her arm around Bernadetta’s shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Bernadetta, are you feeling alright? You are looking as if you’re going to be vomiting.” Petra’s comment didn’t seem to help the situation much, but when she took Bernadetta’s hand in hers the small girl seemed to shake a bit less._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I just...What the professor said… I know we’re classmates and that kinda means we have to be ‘friends’, at least a little, but the way she talked about it ‘out there in a real fight’ just made me wonder. I just… I just want to know that there’s someone there looking out for me. Old memories just tend to get in the way I guess. You two are both just so kind, and you never yell at me, you’re just…” Bernadetta went quiet. Petra squeezed her hand._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Bernadetta, It is not to be worrying about. You are not some shaking rabbit being hunted alone. We will be helping you.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yeah Bern, no matter what happened before, you’ve got plenty of people watching out for you. I had thought we’d been friends for a long time, so I really am...Bern?” Dorothea was cut off as Bernadetta stood and shook her head a bit, as if shaking off a trance._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Just forget it. I’m being stupid. Father would….he’d just be absolutely…..Goddess have mercy.” Bernadetta mumbled as she walked into her tent, leaving the two behind. Petra and Dorothea both looked completely confounded, and they sat in silence for several long, drawn out minutes before Petra finally broke it, whispering barely loud enough for Dorothea to hear._ _ _ _ _ _

______“...Was it something I said? Fodish is such a trouble language, I feel my toes are in my mouth more than they are not.” Petra collapsed on her back, staring at the stars as she spoke._ _ _ _ _ _

______“No, Petra, you putting your foot in your mouth seems to be the least of her worries. What could she mean about her father and all that?” Dorothea wondered as she laid back and joined Petra in staring at the sky. After a while, they each went off to sleep in their own tents. ._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______“Must you really continue your ridiculous training routine this late at night? Your grunts are going to keep the entire camp awake.” Hubert griped as Ferdinand lay prone across the ground, pushing himself up and down._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes!... I must!...I have to ensure I can be stronger than Edelgard!” Ferdinand grunted between pushups, before finally standing up and stretching._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Perhaps you’d have more time to train if you were not so busy speaking sedition against Lady Edelgard.” Hubert shot back with a scowl._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, perhaps if you were not so preoccupied with ‘Lady Edelgard’ every second of the day you might be better company. I speak no sedition against her, in fact quite the opposite. I only ever aim to be strong enough that I may stand as a good advisor in times of trouble. A friend is one who is able to point out where someone is failing and where they must improve, not one who nods and ‘yes ma’ams’ blindly.” Ferdinand rested a hand on his hip._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I grow tired of the river of filth and nonsense flowing from your mouth, mister Aegir! You seem beyond hopeless in your attempts to surpass Edelgard.” Hubert said, standing and poking Ferdinand in the chest._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Goddess have mercy, for once in your life speak of anything other than Edelgard! You are like a gull, squawking away the same tired sound over and over! You must have some interest beyond her. I want to hear it. Whatever it is that brings something resembling joy to the blackened pit you call a heart, I want to know what it is.” Ferdinand shot back, pushing Hubert’s hand aside. “Well?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Hubert was quiet for a moment, glaring into Ferdinand’s eyes until his glare slowly faded into a simple scowl, and finally his shoulders relaxed and he looked down at the fading flames of the campfire._ _ _ _ _ _

______“...Coffee.” Hubert muttered, kicking a rock near his shoe sending it skittering across the dirt and thumping against a log._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What?” Ferdinand’s brow quirked up._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I enjoy coffee. I find the taste of tea too weak, and most people make it much too sweet. When Lady Edelgard takes her tea, I have a small pot of coffee brewed for myself.” Hubert sighed and crossed his arms in front of him. Ferdinand couldn’t help but chuckle._ _ _ _ _ _

______“It is quite predictable for your one great joy in life to be something so bitter as coffee. But thank you, Hubert.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“For what?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, I asked you a question, and you answered. I half expected you to curse me, or worse yet poison my morning rations behind my back.” Ferdinand replied, patting Hubert on the shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well I would not relax so quickly young mister Aegir, the night is young. But I don’t think, if the professors cooking tonight was exemplary of her skills as a whole, my poisons would be necessary.” Hubert cracked an almost imperceptible smile._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ha! Is that a joke? I must flee and call the best healers of Garreg Mach because I do believe you’ve lost your mind Sir Vestra. But I must agree. The professor is a stellar instructor, but a cook she is not.” Ferdinand took his hand away from Hubert’s shoulder and looked up at the sky. “It looks like the moons about to the middle. Should we grab Ashe and Leonie?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Unless you intend to spend the entire night with this pointless conversation, I’d say so. I shall leave waking them to you. Goodbye.” Hubert walked off, and Ferdinand did not even get enough time to respond before he was gone. He grumbled and walked off to gather their replacements._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______The next morning was quiet as the class packed their gear and took to the road. This went unnoticed by the students and professor alike, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The dirt and rocks they walked over grew more and more into blood-red sand as the hours ticked by and they drew closer to the canyon. The path slowly led into a decline that went down between two steep cliff faces, and if Byleth was not mistaken on the other side would be their contacts._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Professor. May I speak with you a moment?” Edelgard asked, running up beside Byleth, her hair was slick with sweat._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I don’t see how I could stop you, Edelgard.” Byleth nodded in acknowledgement of the heiress. “What’s on your mind?_ _ _ _ _ _

______“It was about your speech last night. What you said about only being able to trust those fighting alongside you even more than the goddess.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes? I hope it didn’t offend. But you don’t strike me as much of the religious type.” Byleth said. Edelgard seemed unsure of how to take that._ _ _ _ _ _

______“No, it’s nothing like that. I just hadn’t heard you make much reference to the goddess before. It was just, nice.” Edelgard looked away from Byleth, staring off into the distance._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Nice how?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“It was just refreshing, I suppose. At the Monastery so much emphasis is put on the goddess. We’re always told about the importance of faith in the goddess, praying to the goddess, ‘by the will of the goddess’, it’s unending. I was just happy to hear someone actually say we are allowed some agency in our own lives.” Edelgard said, a smile crossing her lips as she finished speaking. Byleth wasn’t sure how to respond. She had never held any serious faith in anything beyond Jeralt and the brigade. In her battles, they had always been the ones to protect her. What else could you need if you had people you trust by your side?_ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth was about to hazard a response, when the whistle of rushing air struck her ears. She knew that sound._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Down!” She yelled as she lunged towards Edelgard, a moment too late as they both were struck with a flame spell. Several screams could be heard as arrows and fire spells rained down from the cliff sides onto the class._ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth felt her side burning, and saw a small portion of her tunic had caught light. How could Byleth have been so stupid? A ravine was a prime target for an ambush, and she’d just walked the students in blind. She swatted away at the flame as Edelgard struggled out of her camping pack, the thick canvas of the pack having been set ablaze. Byleth pulled the short sword from her belt and quickly slashed away the straps, tossing the bag to the side. She turned to the others, and saw the pathway engulfed in chaos._ _ _ _ _ _

______Hubert was launching Nosferatu blasts at a mage standing on one cliff side while Leonie tried to pick off archers on the other. Byleth saw Dorothea had received a terrible burn on one leg, and Bernadetta was sobbing as a massive gash bled profusely from her arm. Several men armed with axes, swords, and polearms began to drop into the canyon._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Edelgard, follow close behind. We can’t let those men get anywhere near the others.” Byleth ordered as she ran forward and smashed her gauntlet into the side of one attacker's skull. His bones crunched audibly beneath her swing and he fell dead. The clothing he wore looked familiar. These were the bandits that had attacked them in the woods. They’d somehow escaped the knights and laid a trap._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Leonie! Hubert! Stop what you’re doing! Hubert, you and Linhardt target the archers, Petra, I need you to focus on mages. Ferdinand! Ashe! Caspar! Leonie! We need to make sure those bandits get nowhere near anyone else. Follow behind me and Edelgard, and if you see an opening to take one down, do not hesitate! Dorothea, mend your leg as best you can and help Bernadetta. If she can hold a bow she needs to help us here on the ground immediately.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The students all looked terrified, but Byleth had to trust the determination she saw burning behind many of their eyes. Dorothea crawled towards Bernadetta, trying to calm the girl as her hand glowed green against her own thigh. The skin began visibly mending itself._ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth, Edelgard, and their small team charged forward. At the lead of the bandit charge stood that same bearded bandit as there had been on that night in the woods. He grinned evilly, axe in hand, as his forces met Byleth’s head on. The sound of clashing metal and tearing flesh filled the air. The enemy easily outnumbered the team Byleth had rallied for the charge by nearly 2 to 1. The professor saw two bandits slice out at her, one landing it’s blow and burying his blade in her lower thigh. She swung out in retaliation and knocked him out cold._ _ _ _ _ _

______Caspar felt a sword slice open his upper arm, and soon after his axe blade lodged into the offending bandits skull._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Are all battles this exciting professor!? Come on, who’s next!” Caspar roared as he lunged at his next opponent._ _ _ _ _ _

______Ferdinand grunted under his breath, an arrow slamming into his forearm forcing him to coddle the limb. As he was focused on the arrow, another bandit was charging at him, axe at the ready. Ferdinand slashed out with his uninjured arm and slit the throat of the assailant. He moved to the next target, sword aimed for the back of a bandit who was locked in a brawl with Caspar, as his voice rang through the valley._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I will end you all! You’re no match for me, bandit scum!” He screamed as his blade hit home._ _ _ _ _ _

______Linhardt sent out a blast of energy and felt himself breath a bit deeper as he sapped the life from a bandit who’d been trying to pin him with an arrow for what felt like an eternity. The archer dropped to the ground, and didn’t get back up. The horror of what he’d done hit Linhardt like a train, and his knees felt weak underneath him as he began to drop to the ground._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I...I killed him, w..what have I done…” Linhardt clutched at the sides of his head as tears began streaming down his cheeks. Suddenly, something hooked under his arm and hoisted him back to his feet. Hubert’s cold sneer filled Linhardt's ears._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Linhardt! Now is not the time!” Hubert launched a fireball at a newly appeared bandit, and his snarl of pain as an arrow lodged into his shoulder was horrifying. “Grah! We do not have time to break down here! Go help Dorothea or curl up and die! Do whatever you will but make a decision and get to it!” Linhardt nodded for a moment and stepped shakily over to Dorothea, who’s skirt and boot were ragged from the damage of the flame, however her leg seemed healed. She was trying to heal Bernadetta, and Linhardt dropped down next to her, his hands glowing green as he joined her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Thank you, Lindy.” Dorothea said as she looked over her shoulder towards Petra, who was standing a few feet away launching arrows at the bandits on the cliffside. “Petra, are you ok?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I am fine! These men drop just as beast. Do not mourn them, Linhardt, any more than you would mourn a rabid dog” Petra replied, her own clothing was torn and tattered. Linhardt, cheeks still wet with tears, nodded weakly as he saw the wound on Bernadetta’s arm finally close, however the poor girl continued sobbing. Dorothea put her hands on either side of the girl's face, and forced her to look into the songstress’s eyes._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Bern, you need to snap out of it! The professor needs you up and fighting. We need you up and fighting!” Dorothea pleaded. Linhardt wasn’t sure why she’d put such a strange emphasis on ‘we’, it would seem obvious that if the professor needed her, all the students would. But it worked, and Bernadetta nodded weakly as she picked up her bow from the ground._ _ _ _ _ _

______Leonie and Ashe stood side by side as they faced off against one behemoth of a bandit who wielded a pair of swords as if they were daggers. Ashe blocked one swing, but Leonie didn’t dodge far enough out of the way of his other, a rather vicious slash dragging across her left hip. Both of the Black Eagles lashed out at once with their weapons, but they were parried with ease._ _ _ _ _ _

______Every time one of them would attack, the beast of a bandit would knock it aside and retaliate until both of them were covered in gashes and wounds. It wasn’t until Ashe heard Petra screaming for them to duck that they finally gained an upper hand. Both students dropped down as an arrow flew above them and into the bandits stomach, making him stumble for just a moment._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Leonie! AIm high! I got low.” Ashe grunted, swinging out and slamming the blunt side of the axe-head into the side of the bandits knee. The joint bent at an unnatural angle until it finally gave out with a loud snap. As the goliath dropped Leonie lodged her lance into his throat, blood raining down onto the two of them. Leonie panted with her hands on her knees as Ashe could only stare at the corpse, eyes wide._ _ _ _ _ _

______“He...he’s dead...he’s really dead….I….we killed him.” Ashe muttered, staring down at the bleeding corpse._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ashe had we hesitated, had we paused for even a second, he would’ve held no qualm about killing us. This is what we’ve trained for, so when men like that try to kill us or innocent people we can stop them.” Leonie rested a hand on Ashe’s shoulder, and the silver haired Eagle nodded weakly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Y...you’re right. It could’ve been us laying there…” Ashe held silent for a moment. “Thank you” Leonie nodded and helped her classmate to stand, and then the two of them charged on to the next fight._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______The professor blocked a slash from a bandit's blade with the metal of her gauntlet, her arms covered in slashes and burns from the onslaught her class was forced to face. She swung out and managed to catch the bandits jaw, snapping his head to the side and followed it up with a jab to the throat. She felt his windpipe shatter. A loud metal ringing came from behind her and she turned to face it. Behind her stood Edelgard, axe up and blocking the blade of an axe that was clearly aimed for Byleth’s back. Edelgard pushed the bandit back, and swung her axe in retaliation, leaving a gash across the bandits abdomen. The bandit’s beard was speckled with blood, and he laughed as his axe head slashed her thigh, sending blood pouring down her leg._ _ _ _ _ _

______“So, you two again, huh? Well, such a shame your knight friends were about as dumb as you. They pushed us into the final cliff of the canyon, but only blocked the southern road, so all we had to do was take the eastern road around and they never knew what hit them!” He swung out again smashing his axe into Byleth’s gauntlet, the sheer force of the strike bending the metal and crushing part of her arm between the iron. Byleth slammed her fist into the bandit leader's stomach, ripping her other arm back and aiming for his head._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Professor!” Edelgard screamed, Byleth turned to her, but not fast enough. A pair of bandits charged forward, one slashing out at her with a sword strike, which she managed to step out of the way of only to step right into the path of the second bandit’s lance. The blade tore into her shoulder and pinned her against the stone of the cliff._ _ _ _ _ _

______The leader hefted his axe, intent clear as he readied to end her life. Byleth fixed her eyes on the man about to kill her as she screamed inside her mind for Sothis. The axe came within inches of her throat but finally Byleth saw the axe slow, and with it everything else until the world was completely stopped._ _ _ _ _ _

_______“I was wondering when you’d finally call for me! You’re getting demolished out here!” _Sothis chided, as Byleth felt reality shatter around her and everything began moving in reverse. She felt the sickening sensation of the lance pulling out of her flesh and the meat of her shoulder stitching itself back together until she was finally right back where she had been before Edelgard’s warning. _“I fear this is the most I can muster. Do try not to get killed this time.” _Sothis mumbled weekly.____ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Time resumed, and as Edelgard began to scream Byleth turned and swatted the sword away, grabbing the bandit attached and throwing him towards the white-haired student. Byleth dropped down, the lance going right over her head before swinging up and breaking the handle of the spear. The lancer dropped his broken handle and drew a dagger from his belt. Byleth heard a thunk from behind her and the sound of gushing fluid, and could only pray that sound was being made by the bandit’s body and not Edelgard’s._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The bandit leaders axe came within inches of Byleth’s arm, and a whistling sound could be heard as an arrow lodged into his chest. He reeled back and Byleth seized the opportunity, kicking out at his knee with her heavy boot. The bone cracked with an audible snap as his leg buckled under him, bending the wrong direction. His scream filled the air as he fell to his back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Byleth heard footsteps, and Edelgard yelling orders at the mass of students that had collected around the small brawl. The dagger-wielding bandit moved toward the professor but his motion was cut off as the professor grabbed him and threw him against the cliff. Petra and Dorothea were the last to join the mass of students around Edelgard as Byleth slammed his head against the stone wall and tossed his limp body to the ground. Unconscious or dead, Byleth did not care._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The bandit leader was attempting to crawl away as Byleth moved to him. She threw him onto his back, towering over him as she reeled her arm back and smashed her fist into his nose. Then she pulled back and slammed her fist down again, and again, and again, and again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The class was silent as she wiped her gauntlets off on his tattered clothes. She turned back and saw the ragged remains of the students she had walked into that ravine, her students. None were dead, but each of them looked exhausted in their own way. Many of them looked so soaked in sweat and blood that they might drown in it, or that at any moment their muscles could give out and put them on the ground. Linhardt looked distant, trying to avoid the horrors he’d just seen. Hubert and Dorothea both looked so drained that they might pass out at any moment and Bernadetta shakily clutched her bow close to her chest, tears in her eyes as Edelgard Petra and Dorothea stood by her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I….I didn’t want to...but he was trying to kill the professor...I just want to go home....” Bernadetta whimpered. Edelgard tried to console her, but her words seemed to do little to calm the girl. Byleth walked over, stepping over the body of a bandit whose head was smashed open on the ground, a sword inches from his hand. She knelt down in front of Bernadetta to be closer to eye-level, resting a hand on her shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Thank you, Bernadetta. Had it not been for you, I might’ve lost, or at least taken even more damage during that fight.” Byleth stood and looked over her class, “You all did well. An ambush like that is damn near impossible to be prepared for, let alone to make it out without a casualty. There was a small campsite off the road not too far back, we’re going to move back there and set camp for the night. Our healers who still have magic left can tend to our worst wounds, and those of you left I can help as best possible.” The nods Byleth received in reply were weak, but loyal._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Professor, I don’t think prolonged walking would be best for Lady Edelgard.” Hubert said firmly. Byleth looked and saw the sizable damage to the heiress’s thigh, the poor girl was propped up on her bloodied axe as if it were an old man's cane._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Do you think you can make it a mile if I help you?” Byleth asked. Edelgard nodded, determination undulled in her eyes. “Good.” Byleth offered her hand, and Edelgard took it. The professor took Edelgard’s arm and slung it over her shoulder, allowing the princess to place a rather large chunk of her weight onto Byleth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“It will be fine, Hubert. We need to move. I can make it.” Edelgard assured as the class began the longest mile they’d ever walked. Exhaustion was clear in their entire bodies as they crawled slowly down the path they’d just traversed. Hubert stood close behind the professor and Edelgard, as if Byleth where to drop the Hresvelg at any moment and he needed to be ready to grab her before she hit the ground._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The students trudged on, moving farther and farther from the hell they had just survived. Ferdinand and Caspar leaned on each other as they walked, each one supporting the other as much as the other was supporting them. Bernadetta and Petra walked closely beside Dorothea, the songstress insisting every few steps that she was fine. Leonie was walking using her lance like a walking stick, Linhardt and Ashe walking alongside her. Byleth sighed and hefted Edelgards weight a bit higher up on her shoulder, feeling some relief in her lower back as she began to speak._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I guess you ended up getting what you’d wanted.” Byleth said quietly. Edelgard looked at her, confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“How do you mean, Professor?” Edelgard’s words were interrupted with weak grunts at every other step._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You got your chance to save my life. Were it not for you, I would likely be dead several times over. Your assistance and quick warning were invaluable.” Byleth said. It was true, in a sense. Byleth had Sothis to thank for still being breathing, but had Edelgard not warned her in the first place she’d have been in a much worse spot. There was a long stretch of silence, several minutes in fact, before Edelgard finally replied._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I… I didn’t want you to be in mortal peril professor. I just…” And yet again the silence returned._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Just what, Edelgard?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I just wanted to prove to you and Seteth and all the rest of the instructors that we aren’t some helpless children.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Edelgard, you all are students, many of you barely into adulthood. Do you expect us to simply let you loose in the world? I wasn’t even running alone on missions until just a year or two ago.” Byleth explained, adjusting a bit to heft Edelgard higher onto her shoulder. This however only seemed to infuriate Edelgard further._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Exactly! You’re barely older than most of us, so it wouldn’t be outside of reason to think you’d understand more than most that age and experience are not interchangeable.” Edelgard sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, her other arm clinging to Byleth’s neck._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“How do you mean? Of course I understand that. ”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Then why is every other word you say to us something about how ‘real life will be difficult, don’t get careless’? You seem incapable of comprehending we’re not all spoiled children who grew up in the lap of luxury. It shows you have no idea who your students actually are, where they come from, or anything about them for that matter!” Edelgard wasn’t masking her anger anymore, a deep scowl carved the lower half of her face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I think you give me less credit than I’m owed, Edelgard. I pay more attention to my students than you think.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“How so? What do you know about any of us that I didn’t tell you on that first day at the monastery?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I know that wasn’t your first time killing.” Edelgard went white as a bedsheet, and whether it was from what Byleth had said or the blood loss, she wasn’t sure._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I...I have no idea what you mean, professor.” Edelgard muttered, looking down and away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yes, you do. I can see every single one of your classmates trying to process their first kills. Even those like Ferdinand and Caspar who weren’t heartbroken by it are clearly trying to make sense of the madness and yet you and Hubert both seem no different than you did prior to the fight, save for the flesh wounds and burns. You’re either both absolutely mad, or you’ve killed before.” Edelgard opened her mouth as if to speak, but Byleth was not looking for answers. “ I won’t ask you when, or why. But the way you two always seem to be standing off from the class, chattering among yourselves needs to stop. Whatever happened, it can’t just be you two. You aren’t working alone, so please stop acting like you are. All that’s going to do is get you killed and put your comrades at risk. Now get your head out of your ass and learn to rely on people around you. You’re here to be a leader, a leader has to learn to rely on those under their command as much as those people rely on them.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Edelgard never replied and the silence between the two hung, tense and unpierced. Soon enough they reached the clearing. Byleth set Edelgard down on a log, and began helping some of the students pitch their tents. The students who could use healing magic began taking turns to mend the worst of the wounds, rotating between Linhardt and Dorothea every few minutes in an attempt to prevent one or both of them from passing out. While they mended the biggest wounds, Byleth pulled some of the lesser-injured aside and began cleaning wounds with alcohol and stitching them shut. Hubert’s grimace as Byleth stitched the arrow wound in his shoulder actually managed to draw some sympathy from the haggered professor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Finally, after hours of stitches, magic, and labor the worst of the wounds had been sealed. Petra and Bernadetta helped a nearly-unconscious dorothea to her tent, and Caspar all-but-carried Linhardt to his. Byleth sat at the hastily built fire pit, cooking a pitifully small meal out of what rations had survived the attack. Sothis had been silent since she’d saved Byleth from the axe and Byleth found the empty quiet of her own mind rather lonely. Slowly, students began to file in around the fire, taking seats around the cooking food as Byleth passed around bowls of what was little more than watered-down broth and small chunks of cabbage and salt beef. Everyone ate in silence, until finally to everyone’s surprise Bernadetta spoke._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Professor… how….how long does it take for this stuff….the killing…..how long does it take before it starts getting easier?” The entire class turned towards their exhausted instructor. Byleth looked at the fire and felt her shoulders grow heavy as she pondered how to respond. In the end she let out a long sigh, scratching the back of her head as she looked up at the students, her students. They needed her and Byleth had no idea what to do. This was something she felt utterly unable to actually teach them. She’d never had an issue killing, men had come into the brigade only to leave after their first kill many times. She’d seen grief and guilt a hundred times over, seen her father speak to these men a hundred times more, but she’d never seen killing as anything other than her means of survival. A man intends to kill you, you kill him first. A man intends to pay for your food to protect his family from being killed? You kill the people intent to kill him. It was brutal in its simplicity. But Byleth knew she was an outlier in that instance. Her student’s needed something more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________They needed Jeralt. He knew how to talk people through their first kills. He could set their minds at ease. But he wasn’t there, so she decided she’d try her best to answer like he would, and hope it’d work._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“It doesn’t. Or at least it shouldn’t. It should never be easy.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Linhardt spoke up, staring at the fire if for no other reason than not to have to look any of his classmates in the eye. “Then how do you do it? This? Day in and day out?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You learn to not let the weight pull you down. It’s not easy for most, and the weight never really leaves you, but you learn to bear it and let the strain of it strengthen you as opposed to pull you under the water.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“That doesn’t answer his question, professor Eisner.” Edelgard said, her eyes had been locked on Byleth since the professor had begun answering Bernadetta. “How do you not get pulled under?” Byleth flailed for a moment mentally as she tried to think of how to respond._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You remember why you fight in the first place. Killing isn’t something you should ever just do. It has to be for something. Even if it’s as simple as making sure you see another day or have food in your stomach. Whatever it is, you have to hold tight to it, and never let it go.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What is your reason, professor?” Edelgard asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“...” Byleth searched for an answer. It's always been just what she did. She killed because she was a mercenary, that was how her and her father fed themselves, kept wood on the fire during winter, kept alive period. “I fight so that I can keep myself and the people I care about alive.” Byleth finally said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The next few hours passed without much in the way of eventful conversation, and eventually students began migrating to their tents. As the sun finished setting and night drew in Byleth and Edelgard were the only two left around the fire. Edelgard was leaned back against her log, head lulling down every once in a while as she fought sleep. She had volunteered alongside Byleth for first watch, but it seemed she was more exhausted than she thought. After a while, Byleth coughed into her hand and the heiress jumped slightly, head shooting up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Edelgard, I think it’d be best if you slept. Your wounds were serious, and even with healing magic they can drain you. I can watch the camp, but you should rest.” Edelgard looked down, embarrassed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Professor, I appreciate the offer but...my bedroll and tent were damaged in the battle, I couldn’t go to sleep if I wanted to.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Then you can sleep in my bedroll.” Edelgard’s eyebrows knit together as Byleth spoke, and Byleth realized a moment too late how what she had said could be interpreted. “Don’t go taking that the wrong way. I will wake you when my watch is over, and you will take second watch while I sleep. That bedroll is of no use to me while I'm out here covering the watch.” Byleth saw a blush creep into Edelgard’s cheeks, silently wishing Sothis could be there to give her at least some kind of direction._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Of course professor, I ...I had no doubts of your intentions. But I just…. I don’t tend to be comfortable sharing a sleeping area with others. I tend to try and keep my tent away from others when I can.” Edelgard looked down and fiddled with a rock in her hands._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“May I ask why?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I tend to speak in my sleep. And I have...nightmares. They can make me rather disoriented when I wake up. I’ve attacked more than one unfortunate housekeeper who woke me in the night. It’s just easier to sleep away from the others.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I’m sorry.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Don’t be. It’s nothing you did. In a way I think they’re important. A reminder.” Edelgard said, tossing the rock aside._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Of what, exactly?” Byleth asked, fiddling with her short sword._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“The reason I keep fighting. The same reason as you, Professor. Family.” Edelgard took a long breath, shuddering a little at the end. “I shouldn’t be the heir to the Empire. Nowhere close. I am where I am because I was the one who survived long enough to earn the title. Every older sibling I had was either killed or....broken, and I was left alone. Now I have to try and make something of it so that everything that happened, all that suffering, can be worth something.” Edelgard wiped away a tear from her cheek with the palm of her hand, which she held clenched in a fist._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You’re not alone, Edelgard. At least, you don’t need to be. You have an entire class to work alongside.” Byleth said plainly. Edelgard didn’t reply for a long while, the silence only filled with the crackling of the fire between the two. But finally, she stood and spoke._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Maybe you’re right professor, but that changes little. I should get some sleep. Please, just forget about what I said. I have not told many about my past. I’d rather not have it get out.” Byleth nodded as her student walked past her and towards the largest tent in the clearing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Edelgard’s mind was at the same time exhausted and yet buzzing. She sealed the flap into the professors tent behind her, and didn’t even kick her shoes off fully before dropping onto the single bedroll. She finally managed to get her last boot off, and curled up in the thick fabric, which reeked of sweat. Underneath that however she smelled soil, deep and earthy, mixed with what smelled like...lavender? It was such a strange combination of scents, but not unpleasant. She felt awful to have abandoned her post on watch to the professor while at the same time stealing her bedding, but that was overshadowed as her face grew warm again from thinking about the implications of Byleth’s clarification about ‘ill intentions’. She had been, at the time at least, more concerned about the possibility of waking in a terror and accidentally attacking the professor in her confusion._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Edelgard’s exhausted mind turned to the professor in question, unsure of what to make of her. Every moment she seemed to change, at one time an oaf devouring meat like a feral hound, the next she was able to read Edelgard like a book, and yet Edelgard could never seem to read her. She was practically a blank slate walking around in steel boots. Her stomach twisted at the bittersweet thought of what the Professor has said. It’d been so nice to be told she wasn’t alone, but how could Professor Eisner truly know that? She had no idea what Edelgard and Hubert has been working on all these years. Would her classmates really stand beside her if they knew what she intended to do? The lengths she was willing to go to make a better world? Would the professor? Would she even be able to trust them, or her, with the knowledge of what she and her siblings experienced? Some time in her pondering Edelgard von Hresvelg finally managed to drift off into an empty, dreamless sleep._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Byleth sat on her tree stump, staring into the fire as she tried to ponder what in the world she was going to do with these students, when most of the time she barely knew what she was doing beyond her own survival. Goddess, how she wished Sothis could be there to yell some sort of direction into her mind, yet still she was silent._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Midnight came and Byleth went to awaken Edelgard. She got near the tent and could hear slow, even breaths. She was about to speak up, to wake her up, but something made her think better of it. If what Edelgard had said was true she likely didn’t sleep soundly often._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Byleth sighed quietly and walked away, ambling over towards Hubert’s tent. He was no healing mage, so he was better off with regards to rest than most in the camp. Byleth woke him up, kicking his tent until he finally stormed out, and the two went and retrieved Petra. The two students took spots around the fire, settling in for the night and Byleth walked over towards a nearby tree whose roots stuck up out of the ground. She took her cloak off of her shoulders and undid her armor, setting the pieces onto a stump nearby and leaving her in her pants, boots, and tunic._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She laid herself on the ground, finding a spot of elevated dirt from the roots of the tree to lay her head down on, and draped the cloak over herself as a makeshift blanket. She’d slept in rougher places._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Um, Professor, what exactly are you doing?” Hubert asked, annoyance clear in his voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What do you think? I’m trying to sleep. Wake me when the sun’s rising.” Byleth muttered as she waved the black haired boy off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope this weeks chapter was fun! Just FYI I’m on tumblr with the same @ as here on AO3, @Dressthesage if anyone wants to follow me there. Also! I have been loving y’all’s theories in the comments, and just your comments in general, they’re really encouraging as a new writer so thank you for them and never hesitate to post on a chapter!


	5. Chapter 5: Training offers and Bergamot Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A triumphant, as well as haggard, return to Garreg Mach Monastery gives the Black Eagles an opportunity to rest as the clouds of rebellion grow thick in the north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Update!!!!!! Since this Covid shit has got everyone locked up in their homes, I did another Extra Long update, and maaaaaaaay post a second update later this week if I can get enough writing done to not totally screw my buffer-zone. Hope you all enjoy this weeks content! Just a reminder, I have a tumblr @dressthesage where I'll sometimes post dumb notes about this or that part of this fic sooooo there's that for anyone who wants!

Byleth learned, however, that Hubert had very different definitions of what exactly constituted “sunrise”. The sun was already halfway over top of the tree line when Edelgard woke, and she couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d been able to sleep uninterrupted. After a moment she noticed the light filling the tent around her, and her peace transitioned into a groggy confusion.

She stretched and crawled out of the comfortable bedroll. She found her boots in one corner of the tent and walked out. The only people awake it seemed were Hubert and Petra. The Brigian women was cooking something on the remnants of Professor Eisner’s cooking pit, and Hubert was staring off into the treeline with a deep scowl. The moment he saw her approaching he stood and bowed. 

“Good morning, Lady Edelgard. I had intended to wake you, however I was unsure of where your sleeping arrangements had been moved to.” Edelgard bid him to relax. 

“It’s no bother, Hubert. Have you seen the professor? She lent me her tent last night and was meant to come and wake me for the second watch, but it appears that did not happen.” Edelgard’s question sent Hubert’s face into a sort of emotional gambit. The moment he heard the word ‘professor’ his usually mischievous expression morphed into one of annoyance, but as Edelgard continued it shifted to confused, and contemplative slowly after that. 

“Yes...She came and quite rudely awoke myself and miss Petra for guard duty last night, then proceeded to wander over there and sleep in the dirt. I had thought she’d gone mad, or perhaps received some brain injury during the battle” Hubert explained, waving towards the direction he’d been glaring earlier.

Sure enough, there among the roots of a massive oak tree laid the professor’s cloak, with a small tuft of shaggy blue hair jutting out of one side, and at the other end the professor's heavy steel boots. 

Edelgard knit her brows together as she looked at the sleeping form of her professor. What in the world was this woman up to? She shook her head and walked away, heading back to the tent to retrieve her axe and what little remained of her pack from Byleth’s tent as the Professor rolled over in her sleep. 

Her rolling jostled her coat, knocking it down past her eyes and allowing the rays from the morning sun to shine right into them. She grumbled to herself and sat up, dirt and twigs dropping out of her hair as she went to stand. The sound of her spine popping in more than half a dozen places could be heard throughout the camp as she finally finished stretching and donned her armor. Finally fully dressed, she went to sit by the fire.

“Good morning Petra. Anything to report?” Byleth asked as she threw another log onto the fire. Petra shook her head.

“Nothing, professor. It was quiet all night.” Petra said, stirring a surprisingly full pan of eggs and meat. 

“Young miss Petra took it upon herself to scavenge some rations from the woods. She came back with a blouse full of eggs and fist full of dead birds in less than an hour.” Hubert said smugly. Byleth nodded, impressed. 

“Good job Petra. Once that’s done cooking, go wake Bernadetta and see if Dorothea is in a state to wake up. I’ll get the rest of the camp and we can get our day started.” 

“Understood. Thanking you, professor!” Petra said, smiling as she continued with her work. Byleth stood and walked towards her tent. Nodding to Edelgard as they passed each other.

The rest of the morning passed in a blind rush as the Black Eagles ate their food, broke down their camp, and made their way towards home. The healers were back to some level of energy, but they wouldn’t be running any marathons any time soon, so the class walked slowly up the trail to the monastery. 

Byleth stood at the front of the class, and a bit behind her stood Edelgard. The heiress walked in pace with the rest of her class, wondering to herself why she had never been awoken for her shift on guard.

Did the professor not trust her? Was it the conversation they had had on the road back from the canyon? That seemed unlikely, as Professor Eisner didn’t seem like the type to allow someone to sleep in her tent if she worried they were some sort of murderer. But then what was it? She never quite got the courage to ask. 

The Black Eagle’s made it to the monastery in one piece, if only just barely. The sun was barely above the tree-line, minutes away from setting when they managed to make it through the gates. A few student’s went to Manuela’s office to have their stitches checked while the rest went off towards their rooms, and Byleth set off alone to give her report to the Archbishop.

She sighed as she stood in front of Rhea and Seteth, both wearing extremely concerned looks on their faces like some sort of grim mask. She had just finished reporting what had happened over the course of the mission, and neither seemed very pleased. 

“So you mean to tell me the entire battalion of knights was slaughtered by some common bandits?” Seteth asked, his tone coming out as accusatory as it was questioning. 

“I wouldn’t know sir, I didn’t see the bodies. All I know is they weren’t there to assist my students during the battle, and the bandits they were supposed to contain carried weapons of the class I would expect knights to carry. But yes, that is what the bandit leader told us when they ambushed us.” Byleth explained. 

“How could you not check? For all you knew there could be men dying in the canyon that you left behind!” Seteth accosted. Byleth felt a powerful urge to test how much of the man’s jaw she could break in a punch, thought better of it. 

“Your knights, Sir, are not my concern. I am responsible for my students and my students alone. Half of my class barely limped out of that rivine alive, and I was more concerned with ensuring their safe return then I was seeing if any of your men were bleeding out in the sand.” Byleth replied, her monotonous tone making the story seem almost banal. Seteth looked as if she’d spit in his eye. 

“Perhaps, miss Eisner, had you been anything resembling a proper instructor your students wouldn’t have been in such a perilous situation to begin with!” Seteth said, turning to Rhea. “Archbishop, I told you we can not trust this woman with the safety of our students. She’s nothing resembling a proper instructor.” 

“Seteth, this is an unfortunate outcome for a first mission, to be certain, but the professor has shown no signs of being an ineffective instructor thus far.” Rhea said, trying to calm him as best she could. She set a hand on his shoulder, and Byleth saw the man take a deep breath. But there was still a clear disappointment in her eyes.

“My students survived, however injured, what your soldiers could not. If you wish to say I’m an unfit type to be a teacher by whatever worthless standards you hold, do as you will. Yes, I should have been more cautious walking them into the mission. But do not say my instruction put my students in danger. Had those same students been left to the direction of the type of faculty you seem to have training your knights, I'm certain you’d be preparing letters to their families and arranging funeral proceedings. If you feel I'm unfit to teach, then clearly you need to reassess many more members of your staff. I will not entrust these students to the kind of poor instruction those men received. They are some of the best fighters I’ve seen and I will not allow the same poor instruction you gave those knights cost them their lives. Those men’s deaths are on your head, not mine, and I will not allow my students to meet the same fate.” Byleth finished, her jaw clenched. The room was silent enough she swore she could hear the sound of Rhea and Seteth’s heartbeats. Finally, the green haired man let out a weary sigh. 

“Fine. If the Archbishop deems it appropriate to continue with your status as an instructor, then so shall it be. But please know, Miss Eisner, I will be keeping a careful eye on you and your students.” Seteth said, distrust and disrespect dripping from the title of “miss” as he spoke it. 

“Do whatever you wish, just ensure you don’t interrupt my student’s training.” Byleth retorted.

Seteth bowed to Rhea, and left the room. Once he had left, Rhea smiled and rested a hand on Byleth’s shoulder. 

“Seteth is a good man, but he is protective, and it takes time to earn his trust. I believe you will be, and have been, a wonderful teacher to the students. I have high expectations for you, and I hope that you will support these students as best you can while they recover. The bandits were after the students, and while we may not know for what purpose, we must ensure they are safe. This world is changing, Miss Eisner, and the goddess has many enemies coming up from the bowels of Fodlan. They all must be brought to heel.” Rhea said, her grip getting rather tight on Byleth’s armoured shoulder. The professor felt a strange feeling creeping up from her stomach and into a headache, as if she were about to vomit. 

A moment later Rhea’s eyes seemed to come back into focus and she smiled that same off putting smile before bidding Byleth adue. The professor left and walked back to her dormitory, limbs heavy with the strain the past few days had wrought on her. 

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she completely missed Hubert, who held a pen and his notepad in hand and was furiously scribbling away from a spot hidden behind one of the stone pillars. Underneath his armwas a large manilla envelope, with Byleth’s name on it. Lady Edelgard would be quite interested to hear about this. 

_“Rhea seems to have only changed for the worse with this shift.” _Sothis said, dazed in the back of Byleth’s mind. The professor went stock still, the light of the moon shining on her as she realised what she’d heard.__

__“Sothis?” Byleth asked._ _

__“Of course, fool, who else are you speaking to in your mind?” The goddess chided, her voice slow like someone with a fever trying to ask for water._ _

__“No one. That was the problem. Where have you been?” Byleth asked, starting to move back towards her room._ _

___“I told you, I’ve been rather drained just in the day to day recently, and saving your tail from becoming a kabob only drained me further. I needed rest.” _Sothis explained, mumbling slightly. _“And it seems that I'm still not quite back to myself. But please, be careful young Byleth. Rhea is a devoted woman, and she cares not who she must crush to do what she thinks she must.” _Sothis warned.____ _ _

______“What do you mean?….Sothis, answer me, what do you mean?….” And a dozen more times she asked and heard nothing._ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth sighed, making it to her room and sleeping for the night. Sadly it seemed that her dreams couldn’t be so peaceful as they had been when she’d slept in the dirt._ _ _ _ _ _

______She seemed to almost fade into herself, and there she stood on the campus of a burning Garreg Mach. The ground beneath her feet was splattered in blood, and viscera clung to the fabric of the strange patterned tights that covered her legs. She was clutching that same monstrous sword. The grip was slick, along with both of her hands, with blood. She looked around at the red-clad corpses strewn about the ground around her, until her eyes rested on who she sought. A man, blonde, with his shoulders covered in a thick fur that fell down his back like a cloak. His voice was a horse, crawling thing that made Byleth shudder. The man in the fur was clutching a man clad in similar armor to that of the corpses on the ground by his throat, pinning him to a wall._ _ _ _ _ _

______“...You are piling up corpses for ‘the people’, for your family. And I am doing the same for the salvation of the dead. After all is said and done, we are both murderers. Both stained. Both monsters.” The fur-clad man raved, Byleth only ever seeing his back. The man in his grasp gasped for air._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re...wrong!” He protested, as best he could._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Am I? I can smell the rotting flesh upon your hands even now, general.” The man in the fur said, almost as if he found it funny. The man in his grasp struggled to get loose, but this only made the mad man happier. “I won’t kill you right away, my fellow monster. Unless you object to seeing your friends die, one-by-one. If so, I will bid you a small mercy and remove the eyes from your skull so you may simply hear their screams!” The mad man continued._ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth felt herself moving, charging forward, and she felt such relief. She was going to end this monster, this beast in fur who seemed to think himself a man. She would put him down as the dog he was._ _ _ _ _ _

______But that’s not what happened. Byleth watched the hands that were hers and yet at the same moment not bury the blade of her sword into the stomach of the man the beast was holding in his grasp. The poor general begged….someone, whether another god or a distant love or a sister Byleth didn’t know, for forgiveness, and went limp as he bled to death. The beast dropped the poor dead man to the ground and turned to her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What is the meaning of this!?” He asked. His face was covered in scars, and his left eye was concealed  
with an eyepatch. Byleth thought underneath of all of that she could see something familiar, but she heard a voice that was hers and yet not speak before she could piece it together. _ _ _ _ _ _

______“I couldn’t bear to watch.” The voice said, clutching the sword harder. The beast broke out into laughter._ _ _ _ _ _

______“A grievous error, Professor! If you do not approve of what I’ve become, then kill me. If you insist that you cannot, then I will continue, and use you and your friends until the flesh falls from your bones.” The beast said, stomping away. Byleth looked at the dead man, and she felt tears trickling down her cheeks. She fell to her knees and cried over the corpse of the poor man._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m so sorry Randolph…I thought this time could be different...” The voice that wasn’t and yet was hers whimpered, wiping at the tears on her cheeks._ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth’s eyes shot open as she found herself awake, back in her own bed. She looked at the ground, seeing her iron gauntlets, still bloodied from the mission, on the ground besides the pairs of dirty pants. Actual pants. She took a deep breath, thankful that she was back in the real world, in her world. She saw no light in her window, and laid back in the spot she’d been lying before. She felt herself drift back into the groggy fog of sleep. Right as she was drifting, she dazedly noticed that the pillow was damp beneath her cheek._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Several days later Byleth stood in the Archbishop’s audience chambers yet again, thumb hooked into her belt right beside the hilt of her short sword as it usually was. The Archbishop always carried herself as a loving, tender soul, but Sothis’s warning had put Byleth on edge, or at least as close as she could get considering her stoic nature. Holding her hand there helped her to feel more certain. She sighed as Rhea entered, a tall and muscular blonde woman in armor walking beside her. Byleth recognized her as the woman who had greeted Alois when they were walking into the campus a little over two months ago. She was rather interesting, to say the least. Byleth hadn’t seen many women faculty in the Monastery besides herself that specialized in physical combat as opposed to magic or healing, and judging by the unwieldy sword across her back and the muscle that could be seen through the baggy clothes and armor that was this woman’s stock and trade. The two approached and Byleth bowed to Rhea as they took a spot at the end of the carpet. Byleth nodded to the tall woman._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Byleth Eisner.” She said, holding out her hand. The blond took it in a firm grip, shaking it._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Nice to finally properly be introduced, Professor. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from my men and Captain Jeralt. I’m Catherine, commander of one of the larger detachments of the Knights of Seiros. I look forward to getting the opportunity to work with you, however I do wish it were under better circumstances.” Catherine said, looking down and away a bit awkwardly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What is going on?” Byleth asked, unsure of what Cathering meant. She found herself rather distracted. Catherine’s grip was sure and her shake was strong. Rhea looked disheartened._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Lorn Lonato of Faergus has rallied his troops against our most holy church. He’s declared war on the very goddess herself, and anyone who believes in her. We had received rumors some days ago, and we’ve just been given confirmation that they are in fact true. We will be sending you and your class with Catherine and her knights to overtake Lonato’s foolish deicidal coup.” Rhea explained. Byleth rested her free hand on her hip and nodded._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Understood. When do we leave?” Byleth asked._ _ _ _ _ _

______“My men’ll need three days. Lonato’s castle is in the midlands of Faergus, and will be a several hour-long hike from the Monastery, so we have to leave at dawn.“ Catherine said, her posture was relaxed and casual, a sharp contrast to the ominous tone of the conversation._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Please know we intend for your class to remain in the rear guard for this mission. After last months ordeal we do not wish to force the students back into another horrifying warzone. But still, they must see the evils of this world, of those who wish harm to the Church and the Goddess. The students must understand what happens when fools attempt to raise their blades to a god.” Rhea said, something sharp crawling into her voice as she spoke. She paused for a moment, and Byleth saw her shoulders relax down into the same casual arch they’d been just moments ago. “Please, go prepare, professor. Your students will be anxious to hear about their assignment, I’m sure.” Byleth bowed and thanked Lady Rhea, before turning and leaving._ _ _ _ _ _

______Catherine bowed and walked away as well. She jogged briskly until, shortly outside of the main building of the Monastery, she caught up to Byleth._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey! Professor!” Catherine hollered. Byleth stopped and faced her. “I just wanted to check something I’d overheard. Your reputation precedes you.” Catherine said with a chuckle. She continued on with a cocky grin on her face and a hand on her hip. “A few of my guys said they saw you at the arena last week, training with gauntlets. Is that true?” Byleth was quiet for a moment, confused. Had she done something wrong? Perhaps those training dummies were only for the knights? She hadn’t heard anything of that sort before. But she nodded all the same, as it was in fact true. Catherine laughed, a deep booming thing that made Byleth’s chest vibrate a bit._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You really are as hardworking as they say, then. From the sounds of it the damage you did to those dummies left a few of my men rather impressed.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hmmmm, seems your men really are under-experienced then, if something so simple as my training has them so impressed.” Byleth said, crossing her arms. “Between that and the men at the canyon, I must wonder what your knights do in their spare time. From the looks of it, gawking at pretty women and drinking pints of cream seems as likely as anything resembling real training.” Byleth commented. The knights really had not impressed her, however much the woman in front of her did. Catherine seemed unfazed by Byleth’s comments, chuckling to herself and brushing some hair out of her face._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Aww, you calling me pretty professor? Here I thought Manuela was the only flirt in the faculty who swung my way.” Catherine teased, however she stumbled a bit when Byleth didn’t respond and instead just looked at her with the same expressionless gaze. “Uh...come by the arena some time. I need some experience training in hand to hand, and I taught most of the knights so they're no good for anything beyond target practice. I’m usually there later in the evenings.” Catherine said as she walked off. Byleth shrugged and made a note to remember that, walking back to her classroom._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______As she entered the classroom in question, she heard the chatter of several different students discussing everything from gossip to battle strategies. Byleth moved to sit at her desk at the front of the class, and began reading over the papers she’d had the class write involving combat against heavily-armored flying opponents. She looked up mid-way through Caspar’s, and she really must improve her lectures because his main point consisted of little more than ‘throw axes at them’, and saw her class was looking at her, almost all of the having gone completely silent. Byleth leaned back in her heavily padded chair and looked at her students. She figured they were as anxious to learn about the mission as the Archbishop had suggested._ _ _ _ _ _

______“The Archbishop has given us our mission for this month. There’s an uprising against the Church, lead by Lord Lonato of Faergus.” Byleth explained. The room went so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The entire class seemed to be holding its breath as Ashe sputtered, mortified._ _ _ _ _ _

______“N...No! That can’t be right! Lord Lonato is a good man, this has to be some kind of mistake…” Tears were streaming down Ashe’s cheeks as the young noble ran from the room. Leonie followed close behind yelling, begging the silver haired Eagle to stop and come back. Edelgard shot Byleth a glare and followed after them with Hubert in tow._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Why would he do such a thing? Surely a nobleman like him would know this action would only end with his men slaughtered.” Ferdinand sighed, resting his head in his hand, his elbow propped on the desk._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hmmm, perhaps your nobles are not so noble as you’d like to believe Ferdy.” Dorothea said, venom so thick in her voice it might’ve rattled and bit at you if you came too close._ _ _ _ _ _

______“He is to be making a martyr…He is a fool.” Petra muttered._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What could someone hate so much they’d die without the slightest hope of victory? Lonato is famous for his devotion to the goddess, why turn his blade to the church?” Bernadetta wondereed. Edelgard and Hubert walked back into the class around that moment. Byleth took a deep breath and sat up a bit in her chair._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Bernadetta...just remember that the church and the goddess are not one and the same.” Byleth said, Sothis’s warning still hanging heavy in the back of her mind. Hubert gave her a rather strange look, and were Byleth not keenly aware of the fact it was Hubert von Vestra, she’d have hazarded to say it was even a smile. Byleth continued on. “But no matter what, we have our orders, and we will follow them.The knights will be leaving at dawn at the start of this upcoming week, three days from now, and we will be joining them. Make sure you are packed appropriately and take these days to rest. You’re dismissed.” Byleth finished, resting her elbows on her desk as she returned to her work. The students began trickling out a few at a time, and in a matter of minutes she was alone in the class._ _ _ _ _ _

______She read through her papers, marking the ones that had been lacking. The students would need more instruction and training if they wanted to survive in the world outside the Monastery. She knew she was pushing her class harder than the other professors. But at this point it was beyond her control. They needed to be stronger. She knew better than most that this world would chew them up and spit them out without a second thought if they weren’t properly prepared. She had no intention of letting her students fall to that._ _ _ _ _ _

_______“They’re stronger than you think.” _Sothis siad, appearing on the table in front of Byleth, causing the professor to sigh and look up from the latest paper.__ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Strong men die too, I’ve killed plenty of them.” Byleth muttered, marking a section of Petra’s paper that she thought would be good for a later lesson._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________“True, truer than you know. But that’s not my point, it’s ok to worry but you can’t prepare them for everything.” _Sothis was more than a tad annoyed at being ignored.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“They’re my responsibility and I will do what I must to ensure my job is done.” Byleth muttered. “Now, do you have anything useful to tell me? Or are you just here to taunt me more with comments about a past I don’t seem to remember and have no proof is not simply your own croc of nonsense?” Byleth asked, dropping her quill onto the table._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Well, in fact” _Sothis started, until the door to the classroom opened and Edelgard stepped in. Sothis vanished from sight before the door was even fully opened. The white haired girl walked towards the desk, her jacket had been replaced by a simple red coat over a white blouse.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Professor? It’s nearly midnight, what are you still doing here?” Edelgard asked, her voice carrying hints of concern that were lost on Byleth, but not on Sothis. Byleth looked out the window at the other end of the room. The glass, which had been alight from the sun outside when Byleth had started grading, was now showing a rather lovely view of the moon._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I suppose I got distracted and lost track of time.” Byleth muttered, her eyes suddenly feeling very very heavy. She rubbed them with her thumb and pointer finger. When she looked up, Edelgard was giving her a strange look. “What?” Byleth asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“That really was so unbelievably cruel, professor.” She muttered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Rubbing my eyes?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“No, ugh, your announcement to the entire class that we were marching off to war with Lord Lonato, and without even the good graces to warn the man’s own son.” Edelgard chided. Byleth paused and realized perhaps she may have a point._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I… I didn’t know it would have such an affect on him.“ Byleth said, being cut off before she could say more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Exactly! That boy does nothing short of singing his father's praise all day and yet you still have no idea that he may be hurt by being told he or one of his classmates may kill his father.” Edelgard let out a heavy sigh. “You still know nothing about us.“ she sounded more exhausted than angry. Byleth sat there for a moment, lost in thought._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, how do you suggest I try to learn?“ Byleth asked. She knew that there was a large chunk of how most people saw the world that she just didn’t understand, but it wasn’t that she ignored it. It just seemed that everyone else was able to notice things that went right over her head. Edelgard looked rather shocked by the professor's response._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, you could start by actually trying to spend some time with some of us. Outside of class I’ve only ever seen you at the training grounds, here, or on the way to one or the other. There’s a lot of things on this campus to do. Join us sometime….” Edelgard paused for a moment and sighed. “How about this, I have tea on Sundays. Why don’t you join me? We will be leaving on Monday so it won’t interfere with our mission.“ Edelgard offered, though she wasn’t quite sure what had possessed her to do so._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“...I think I could do that.“ Byleth said. Tea always seemed like one of those noble luxuries, all sugar and sweets that Byleth never really had access to as a child. She worried for a moment that she may burn more bridges than she would build with the heiress, but if today was any indication she couldn’t get much farther at burning than she already had._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Good. You could join some of the others for food in the dining hall or I mean you could even try to train with someone besides a dummy if that was something you had to insist on doing.” Edelgard continued. Byleth figured she could take Catherine up on her offer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“OK. Maybe I’ll join the class for dinner tomorrow.“_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Edelgard smiled, actually smiled, but again she was not quite sure why._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I’d like that.“ She said, “Now, I’m going to return to bed, I'd recommend you do the same.“ She said as she turned and left. Byleth was going to ask why she was awake to begin with when the door closed with a loud slam. Sothis giggled in the back of Byleth’s mind as the exhausted professor gathered her papers and left for her dorm._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Edelgard walked out of the classroom, and in the opposite direction of the dorms. She had to hurry. She’d already wasted too much time talking to the professor and needed to find Hubert._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She sighed to herself and pondered what in the world had possessed her to invite the woman to tea, when that was one of the few reprieves she had from her during the week. However she thought better than to dwell on it. It was done and couldn’t be undone. Or could it? Potentially she could just fake being ill, say she can’t do tea and then have a pot of it in her bedroom. The idea seemed appealing to her as Hubert came into view, sat on a bench overlooking the hills and a small graveyard below._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Lady Edelgard.” He said as he handed her a manilla envelope and a small stack of papers that appeared to be torn from a notebook. Edelgard took the stack of paper, sat down, and began flipping through them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Hello, Hubert. Anything of interest?” She asked as she opened Professor Eisner’s staff file._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Nothing much in her record. A birthday, the 17th of this month in fact, but no year.” Hubert said, pointing to the blank “year” slot in the date of birth. “Aside from that, the file is rather worthless. She’s a mercenary, and she specialises in hand to hand combat, nothing we didn’t already know. But, the notes will be of interest to you.” Hubert said, pointing to the papers attached to the front of the envelope. “I overheard the Professor giving her report to the Archbishop, and saw a rather new side of her.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Edelgard read the notes and was shocked to read the diatribe the professor had gone on against The Archbishop and her lackey. She read the Professor’s praise of their class and, soon after reading the final notes, looked up at Hubert confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“What in the utter hell is this woman?” She asked, dumbfounded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“An idiot, by the looks of it. To show such blatant antagonism to Lord Seteth must be akin to career, if not literal, suicide. But it was rather curious to hear such high praise from her.” Hubert said, looking over the ledge to the hills in the distance._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“It’s more than that, she’s so...defensive of us. She seems as enraged by the implication Seteth believes we failed as the implication he believes she failed. It’s just so strange for her.” Edelgard said, tossing the notes onto the bench between her and Hubert. She leaned down and rubbed her temples. This woman made her head hurt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I wouldn’t call it ‘enraged’. Even at its worst, her tone never rose above an elevated speaking voice. This is still Professor Eisner after all.” Hubert said, crossing his legs and resting his hands in his lap._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Still. I will admit it shines a bit...friendlier of a light on her than I’ve seen her under these past weeks.” Edelgard said, a bit embarrassed, as she leaned back against the bench. She had just lambasted this woman as being a graceless, careless imbecile moments before and here she reads that woman risking her job to stand not just for her own achievements but those of her students. Perhaps this woman wasn’t so much uncaring as simply ungodly stupid. It was rather curious that their birthdays were so close together. “I do think it would serve us well to keep a close eye on the Professor. She is too strange to risk leaving unattended, and she may prove useful to the plan.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Do you think she may be...with them?” Hubert asked, his town implying clearly who he meant. Those Who Slither in the Dark._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“No. Their agents are much, much better at blending in with people. This woman is as graceful as a wyvern in a tea house. But someone so willing to antagonize the Archbishop to her face is someone that may prove beneficial to us.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Understood, Lady Edelgard. If there’s nothing else, I will bid you goodnight.” Hubert said as he stood._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Wait, Hubert…” Edelgard said quickly. “I need you to get something for me.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The next afternoon Byleth set out to try to find Ashe, hoping to be able to apologize for her less-than-stellar handling of yesterday’s announcement. However the poor kid proved rather difficult to locate. She’d been looking for hours and had done three entire laps around the main campus._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________It must have been nearly 5 oclock when she passed by Catherine, who was sat on the bank of the fish pond and staring out at the water, for the third time. The knight waved her over, and Byleth moved towards her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Hey,professor.” Catherine said, loading a hook with bait. Byleth never would have thought of Catherine as the fishing type. “You out for a walk?” She asked as she tossed the hook into the water._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“No. I’m searching for one of my students. I handled an announcement...less than tactfully yesterday and I’d hoped to find him and apologize.” Byleth explained._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, why don’t you take a load off for a minute then, teach?” Catherine said patting a spot on the ground beside her. Byleth shrugged and sat down on the sun-warmed stone, leaning back and bracing her arms against the ground. The sun felt nice. Catherine took a deep breath. “Let me guess, young mister Ubert didn’t take kindly to the mission.” Catherine mumbled as she stared a bit too intensely at the water._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“How’d you know?” Byleth asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I thought it would present a problem. But I figured you’re his professor, you’d know how to break it to him better than I would. Besides, me and his family have a none too pleasant history.” Catherine said, chewing on her cheek._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, it appears I've fallen short of your assessment then. I just hope this doesn’t become a trend. The poor boy seems to have been rather melancholy ever since he joined, and that isn’t helped by the situation in Faergus.” Byleth said. Catherine nodded as the corners of her lips curled into a frown._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Oh that didn’t start with just you professor.” Catherine’s voice was rather soft, as if she wasn’t quite aware she was talking. “He’s been withdrawn for much longer than he’s even been here. His brother always talked about how he was becoming withdrawn and quiet, and Ashe only got worse after…” Catherine seemed to snap back to reality as she pulled back on the pole, yanking a large fish from the water. “But you’re right, Lonato’s actions will likely not help.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“So, how do you know Ashe’s family?” Byleth asked. Catherine laughed and cast her pole back out into the pond._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“That’s a much longer story that I need to be much drunker to tell.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, maybe we can grab a drink some time. But I still need to find Ashe, so I should be off. The boy doesn’t seem to be anywhere on the grounds.” Byleth said as she stood from the spot on the bank of the pond,brushing dirt from her pants._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Ashe is in the chapel at the north of the academy.” Catherine said, almost ashamed. “He’s sat in the pews praying. For a miracle most likely.” Byleth stood above her for a second, a bit surprised that the woman knew such specifics._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“How…” Byleth started, only to be cut off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I...I saw him earlier when I left Lady Rhea’s morning service.” Byleth could tell she was lying, but thought better than to press harder. She did note to make sure she did not leave Ashe alone with her however, just in case. She thanked Catherine and began heading towards the chapel. In all honesty she’d forgotten there was one on campus to begin with._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The path up the long stone walkway was pleasant enough. The view was rather breathtaking in the light of the late afternoon sun, and she could see students scattered around the walkway having their own conversations. Byleth reached the gates and waited as they were drawn up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The inside of the chapel was grand, ornately furnished with large marble pillars and intricate tapestries depicting the saints and their various trials in service to the goddess. Her father had never been very religious, but the mercenaries were of many faiths and so she heard plenty of the stories of Seiros and the goddess._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Sure enough, there was Ashe, shoulders slumped and head bowed. The young noble’s cheeks were streaked with tears and Byleth sighed as she went to sit down close by._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Hello Ashe, can i sit with you?” Byleth asked, pointing to the spot on the pew to Ashe’s right. Ashe looked up and nodded, wiping a tear away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“G...go ahead, Professor. I didn’t know you came here…” Ashe mumbled as Byleth sat down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, I really don’t. But I wanted to talk to you, Ashe.” Byleth said, almost immediately being interrupted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Professor, I know what this is about.” Ashe blurted out, and continued to ramble. “I understand given my familial situation there may be concerns of my loyalty but please...” Clearly it’d been something the silver haired noble had been thinking about for a not insignificant moment. Byleth rested a hand on Ashe’s shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Ashe, that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to apologize. I handled the mission briefing badly. I should have talked to you before I announced it to the class. I know….I know lord Lonato means a lot to you, and I hope you can forgive me.” Byleth had no idea if her words made any sense, but Ashe sniffled a bit less, and that seemed like a good start._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I...thank you professor….” Ashe said, letting the silence hang. Byleth sat there for several minutes, hand still on the kid’s shoulder until she finally pulled it away and spoke again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I do hope you understand that your loyalty was never a concern regarding this mission. You have shown yourself to be an upstanding young man, but if you do want to sit this mission out, I will understand. No one would fault you for not wishing to fight your own family.” Ashe frowned, even during her praise, and looked down. Byleth was about to speak when Ashe’s head shook “no” and shot up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“No. I have to go. Maybe there’s a chance I can talk some sense into Lonato. And if someone were to die because I wasn’t there to help…” Ashe shuddered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I admire your commitment to your comrades. It’s a sign of a good leader.” Byleth said, and she saw a hint of a smile on Ashe’s cheeks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Thank you…can, can I talk to you about something else, professor?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I don’t think I could stop you if I wanted to.” Byleth said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well….I was just...I have been wanting to tell you for a little while but…I don’t know it just, y'know I can’t really….It’s hard to talk about without seeming crazy...” Ashe stumbled, seeming to fail to find the words. Ashe felt tears welling up, and after another moment just said the first words that came to mind. “You scare me!” Ashe blurted out. Byleth was unsure of how to reply, but before she even could Ashe stood and began walking away, mumbling about needing to leave and being sorry._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Byleth sighed and collapsed against the back of the pew. Teaching was ridiculous. Or perhaps it was just her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________About an hour later the classes were flocking together at their tables and Byleth could see her students chattering amongst themselves and a few students at neighboring tables as she walked in. Immediately upon her entrance several students went quiet while others chattered even louder. No one had seen her in the dining hall since her class’s victory at the mock battle, and she’d become a sort of urban legend among the more gossip-inclined students._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Byleth took a seat at the head of the table, which left her with Edelgard to her right and Leonie to her left._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, it’s nice of you to join us, professor!” Caspar yelled from half-way across the table._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Caspar, don’t be rude, you’re bothering my rest.” Linhardt muttered as he returned to resting his chin on his arm and sleeping at the table._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Maybe you shouldn’t sleep at the dinner table then, Lindy.” Dorothea teased._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Linhardt, it truly is unbecoming to sleep at a time like this. Come, join us in the world of the living and enjoy some time with our professor where she isn’t lecturing us or telling us to run more laps.” Ferdinand said, as if he were declaring some grand victory. Leonie laughed and reached over, knocking Linhardt’s arm out from under him and causing the young scholar to nearly hit his head on the table before sitting upright._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Cmon, next time you fall asleep one of us is going to pour our water on your head.” Leonie chimed in as Linhardt glared at her. He sighed dejectedly and shrugged._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“If it really is so unavoidable, then fine.” Linhardt said, defeated. Edelgard sighed beside Byleth. The Professor looked over to the heiress._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Are they always like this?” Byleth asked quietly, earning a small chuckle from Edelgard. She nodded ‘yes’._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Honestly, I think they’re taming it down since you’re here. Most nights are usually much more chaotic by this point.” Edelgard whispered to her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Professor!” Petra chimed up from the other side of Dorothea, “It is good to be seeing you outside of the class! We were beginning to worry you might be becoming a reckless!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Uhm, I think you mean recluse, Petra.” Bernadetta said quietly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“So, professor.” Leonie said, leaning a bit closer as dinner was being served. “Got any good stories about working with Jeralt?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Oh Leonie, I’m sure the professor doesn’t want to talk about something like that at the dinner table.” Ashe said, quietly picking at a plate of pasta._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Come on! There’s gotta be tons of amazing stories. How could there not be? Come on professor!” She goaded. Byleth hesitated for a minute._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I...think I'd rather keep my mind off of battle for tonight. Why don’t you tell me something about you, Leonie? A mercenary turned academy student? There must be a story there.” Byleth asked. Shoveling a fork full of pasta into her mouth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, there’s not much to say really. I started training as a warrior after your dad took me under his wing and made me his apprentice. When he left, I kept training, and managed to help my village enough that, well, they were able to gather enough gold to get me a spot here in the academy.” Leonie said, taking a moment to eat a bit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Wow, I never knew that about you Leonie, that’s really amazing. I’m sure you’ll make your village proud.” Ashe said, perking up a little bit. Leonie went a bit red, covering her mouth as she finished chewing her last bite._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Thanks Ashe, and I hope so. Everyone back home sacrificed so much to get me here, I gotta make sure it’s worth it.” Leonie said, smacking her fist on the table for dramatic effect._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I know how that can feel. I spent my younger years stealing food to try and make sure my family ate. I wouldn’t be here at the academy if it weren’t for…” Suddenly what little joy was in Ashe’s voice disappeared, simply leaving the sentence to end there. Leonie’s brow furrowed a bit, but she said nothing. Byleth went to shovel another bite into her mouth, but caught a disapproving glare from Edelgard._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She took a moment, setting her fork down on her plate and lifting it back up with less than half as much pasta as there was originally, and slowly popped it into her mouth. She had the strange feeling of being a trained dog, but seeing the slight smile of relief on Edelgards face was worth it. For once she seemed to not actively be earning the head-of-house’s ire._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The rest of the night passed in idle chit chat and Byleth trying her best to eat in a way that didn’t make her stand out like a sore thumb from the people around her, however Leonie’s dining gave Byleth a run for her money. Linhardt talked about his interest in crests, Dorothea told a story about an opera she was part of back before she came to the academy about a valiant knight being nursed to health, and Petra told them about some of the cooking customs in Brigid._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The next morning, Byleth was awoken by a knocking on her door. She fell out of bed, standing up quickly and throwing open the door to see Edelgard stood carrying a small box and a teapot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Still care to join me, professor?” She asked, holding up the teapot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“If I’m still invited.” Byleth replied, leaning against the door frame._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, I wouldn’t’ve gone through all the trouble of walking to your room and knocking if it was just to tell you you weren’t invited.” Edelgard said, her tone not quite distinguishable between joking and irritated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Fair point. I would like to join you, yes.” Byleth said, standing up from the door frame, Edelgard pointed to Byleth’s undershirt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Actual clothes would likely be a good idea, professor.” This time the joking was apparent._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Another fair point. Give me just a moment.” Byleth said, slamming the door in the girls face and quickly replacing her night clothes with a clean outfit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________“Smooth. Very smooth.” _Sothis teased. Byleth waved her off as she dressed. She thought better than to wear armor, and left her cloak behind as well, leaving her in just the tunic, pants, and boots. She finished dressing and walked out the door. She followed Edelgard to a small gazebo in one of the school gardens, and Edelgard sat down under it’s shade as she began to pour out two cups of tea from the pot in her hand. She slid one to Byleth before opening the box, revealing it to be full of various sweetbreads.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Please, help yourself Professor.” Edelgard said, grabbing a large pasty that looked to be coated in powdered sugar and taking a large bite out of it. Byleth took a smaller pastry and popped it into her mouth. It was a strange texture and that was all Byleth could really tell about it. She didn’t notice much regarding the flavor between one food and the next. Food was fuel, not much more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Edelgard reached over to her side and pulled something off of the ground, it was the small bag she had been carrying the saucers in. She set her cup down and opened the bag, rifling around in it for a second and pulling something out. It was a long black box. Edelgard set the box on the table and slid it over to Byleth, much like she had the tea cup. Byleth simply stared at it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“It’s a birthday present. From all of us in the Black Eagles. We were talking after breakfast yesterday and realized your birthday was tomorrow. We were going to give it to you last night at dinner, but Hubert wasn’t able to pick it up before the shop closed.” Edelgard explained. Byleth grabbed the box and opened it. Inside of it was a small pendant on a red length of ribbon. The pendant was a rich coppery red, and inlaid in the metal was the visage of an eagle. Byleth pulled the charm out and slid it over her head. It rested just above her breast._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Thank you, Edelgard.” Byleth said,looking up at the white-haired woman. Truth be told she had completely forgotten about her own birthday._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“It’s no problem, really.” Edelgard said with a shrug. She took a long drink from her tea and set her cup back on its small saucer. Byleth had been clutching her cup like one of her father’s tin mugs, with her fingers wrapped around the body of it and her thumb in the loop of the handle, but she thought better and sat her cup down on her own saucer as well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Still, it’s appreciated. What kind of tea is this?” Byleth asked, taking her cup as properly as she could figure and sipping at it. It reminded Byleth of the tea her father would make from planks of dried leaves for the fighters to keep them going on long marches._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Bergamont. It’s my favorite tea. I make an effort to have some every sunday. It helps me unwind before the week ahead.” Edelgard said, taking a deep inhale of the steam wafting off the cup before taking a sip. She chuckled a bit. “It’s funny, we had no idea that your birthday was this week, you’d made so little fuss about it that had it not been for Hubert we’d have completely forgotten.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well, it’s nothing of much importance.” Byleth said with a shrug._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Ha, a very ‘you’ thing for you to say, Professor.” Edelgard pointed out. Sothis cackled within Byleth’s mind. “It’s curious however. My birthday is actually this next week, on the 22nd.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well, I’m sure that’ll be a wonderful day for you then.” Byleth slid her sleeve up a bit and scratched at an itch on her right arm as she spoke. She was so used to wearing her armor she almost felt naked without her gauntlets._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Byleth rested the itchy limb on the table and took a sip of her tea again, trying to hold the cup properly, but finding it hard to grip. She finished her drink and set it down on the saucer, looking up to see a strange look on Edelgard’s face, and her eyes locked on the exposed segment of Byleth’s arm._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Is something wrong?” Byleth asked as she pulled her arm back. Was resting a wrist on the table some grand disrespect? These noble’s were so very strange, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“No no, my apologies. I just got a bit curious. Your arm is rather scarred.” Edelgard said, crossing her ;egs as she leaned back against her chair._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well, yes. I was a mercenary, remember? Even with all my armor, things manage to get through. That bearded beast with the axe gave me two of these alone.” Byleth said, pulling her sleeve up at the elbow, revealing several scars, each different lengths and faded to different degrees. She pulled her sleeve back into place and began pouring herself another cup of tea._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I guess it does seem sensible. I just didn’t expect so many.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well, a brawler tends to be in the thick of the fight, so damage is more likely than not. Besides, better someone like me take that hit and survive than a mage or archer take it and die.” Byleth said with another shrug._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“...You are quite strange, Professor, do you know that?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’ve been told it more than once. But how do you mean?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Two months we’ve been training alongside you, and most of us know nearly nothing about you beyond that you are one of the most apathetic people any of us have ever met.” Edelgard explained._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well, there’s not much to tell, really.” Byleth replied, shrugging again. She took another sip of her tea._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh, that must be a lie. There must be something of interest about you.” Edelgard prodded. She wasn’t quite sure why she was so curious about the professor, but she waved it off as trying to assess if she was someone Edelgard could trust._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Byleth thought for a moment. She wasn’t lying when she said there wasn’t much to tell, but it wasn’t that Byleth found her life uninteresting, or at least any more uninteresting than anything else. It was that for her much it was difficult to think of much anything concrete she could say that would be of much interest that wasn’t shrouded in her hazy memories. She thought for another moment, and finally managed to find something that might be of interest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I have no heart beat.” Byleth said, taking a sip from her now lukewarm cup of tea._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“...You can’t be serious, Professor. If you don’t want to tell me something, that’s fine, but do not treat me like a child.” Edelgard said, a bit aggravated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’m telling the truth. I can prove it.” Byleth said, standing up from her chair. She moved the seat a bit closer and sat back down, looking over to Edelgard as she held out her hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Edelgard hesitantly held her own hand out, and Byleth guided it to the top of her sternum. Edelgard went a bit red at her hand being on Byleth’s chest. Thankfully not too low, but it was still a bit close. After finally gaining her composure again, she realised she wasn’t feeling anything. The was the fall and rise of her chest as Byleth breathed, but no actual sensation of a beating heart beneath the bone. Edelgard couldn’t believe it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“But how?” She asked, looking up at the professor before looking back down at her hand. She realised her hand was still actively on her teacher’s chest and pulled it back quickly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“No idea. It’s been that way for as long as I've been alive, according to Jeralt.” Byleth said, scooting her chair back to where it had been._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well...I guess that certainly is interesting.” Edelgard muttered, devouring another sweetbread. Byleth nodded and drank more of her tea._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’ll take that as a compliment.“ Byleth retorted before reaching to refill her tea cup, only to find the pot was empty. Byleth stood, pot in hand, and started towards the dining room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Professor, where are you going?” Edelgard asked. Byleth turned around and held up the pot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I was going to grab us more tea.” She said, a bit confused. Edelgard looked surprised._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh, ok. Thank you.” Edelgard said, quietly trailing off at the end. She turned back and took a bite out of her sweet bread as Byleth walked off, leaving her alone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She realised for a moment her cheeks were warm, and sighed as she tried to regain some kind of composure. It was simply new having someone besides Hubert to chat with over tea, and Byleth not even asking before going to refill the tea pot was a very strange mixture of kind and brash. That really seemed to be the best way she could think of describing the Professor. While Edelgard was now more assured than ever that Byleth was too strange to be some sort of agent for those who slithered in the dark, the lack of a heart beat only made things more confusing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Byleth returned, teapot in hand steaming and wafting the air with the smell of fresh Bergamot. The two sat in the gazebo for another hour, maybe even two, sipping their tea and talking about trivial things. Byleth discussed an interesting point from a paper Bernadetta had written, the girl had almost entirely ignored the prompt in favor of telling some story about hiding from her classmates. Byleth had originally been disappointed, but at one point Bernadetta made several points about her tricks for hiding that Byleth thought could be useful for potential training in stealth tactics. Edelgard spoke on some drama that was brewing among a pair of nobles Hubert had told her about, something involving a stricken love triangle between a duchess, a priest and a guardsman. Byleth was not the gossiping type, but the time flew by and finally the two decided to end the afternoon._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Thank you again, Edelgard.” Byleth said as the two stood from their chairs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“It was nothing, professor. Thank you for joining me.” Edelgard replied as she grabbed the glasses and teapot, the sweets box was long past empty. Byleth nodded and turned to leave. Edelgard was going to let her walk off, but quickly spoke up. “P...professor, wait just a moment.” She blurted out, Byleth stopped and turned back. “I need some help carrying the dishes back to the kitchen.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Of course.” Byleth said as she walked back, taking the glasses and saucers from Edelgard as the two walked towards the dining hall, where they handed them off to one of the housekeepers that was busy cleaning and preparing the hall for dinner. The two walked towards the dorms, the shared destination meaning they walked alongside each other out of the dining hall, down the stairs, and past the fish pond. The late afternoon sun reflected off the water, casting the whole courtyard in a soft orange glow. As they drew closer to the dorms, and the point where they’d have to diverge paths, edelgard spoke._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Would you like to join me again next week?” She asked, stopping her walk as they reached the crossing of the paths towards the noble dormitory and the commoners quarters._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I would.” Byleth said, also pausing for a moment. The two stood there quietly, both looking at the soft colors dancing on the water of the pond. “Well, it’s getting late, so I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget, front gate at dawn.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Don’t worry Professor, I’ll be there. Have a good night.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“And you as well.” Byleth said. With that they parted ways, Byleth towards her dorm in the commoners quarters, and Edelgard towards her room in the noble’s dormitory. Byleth walked towards her bed, completely unaware that the corners of her mouth had bent up just a bit into an almost imperceptible smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Lots more jumping around in time, going from last chapter taking a whole 2 days to this one covering basically a whole ass month. But! Gay Shit! so I mean it's cool right? 
> 
> Also, since I like everyones comments, I have a challenge for yall. What's the most bat-shit wild plot twist you could come up with for the plot as i've written it so far? What about the most realistic? I'm curious. 
> 
> Also, shout out to @The_Unqualified1 for helping proof-read this weeks chapter!!!! Go read her stuff!


	6. Chapter 6: The Devil Made Me Do It.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Eagle house and Sir Catherine of the Knights of Seiros face off against the peasant rebellion lead by Lord Lonato of Faergus. Blood is shed, and old wound's are exposed as everyone just tries to live to see another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoy this weeks chapter! Super early morning update!
> 
> Also, shout out to @The_Unqualified1 for helping proof-read this weeks chapter!!!! Go read her stuff!

As the sun began to rise over Garreg Mach Monastery, Catherine found herself unbearably bored. She’d been awake for nearly three hours already, and had been waiting for the class meant to accompany her team for nearly a third that time. They weren’t late, or at least not that late, she just had a knack for being the first to rise on mission days. If anyone asked she tended to say it was because she loved a good fight, and just couldn’t wait. But in truth, she had trouble sleeping on good days, and when she had a battle she knew she was walking into it gave her a reason not to try and fall back asleep when she woke up at strange hours of the night. 

She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to manage this mission. Not only was she marching to war with Lonato, but she was marching to war alongside his own ward, Ashe Duran. That seemed like rubbing salt into a wound you created, in the kindest light. How was she even going to manage interacting with Ashe? 

Catherine had no idea if the kid knew it’d been her who turned in Cristophe. She knew the kid didn’t know why, not many people beyond her and Lady Rhea knew that, but still. What if Ashe turned on her? Joined Lonato and buried an axe in her back. Catherine couldn’t say she didn’t deserve it, but she still would rather not have it happen to begin with. 

She thought of trying to talk to Ashe, explaining why she did what she did. Perhaps she could play the grieving friend, the lost soul who was only trying to make everything right and had done what she had to. She shook her head and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she ran her hands through her hair. She couldn’t do that. She felt bad, that was certain, but she had known that she had a choice and she made the choice she made for her own reasons. 

She felt guilt but she didn’t doubt her choice. She couldn’t. She’d spent the past years building on the foundation that choice had laid out for her, what would even become of her if she started doubting it?

“Hello, Sir Catherine.” Edelgard said, walking up to the knight’s side and startling her from her thoughts. Catherine had no idea how this kid had managed to sneak up on her, but she honestly appreciated the distraction. 

“Hey, knock it out with the ‘Sir’ stuff. It’s Catherine, Thunder Catherine if you want to be dramatic.” Catherine said as she stood from her spot on the ground. Hubert joined the two women, bowing as he began to speak. 

“Apologies for our tardiness. One of our classmates refused to leave her dormitory, and it took Petra, Dorothea, and the Professor to finally pry her loose. They should be here any moment now.” 

“Thanks for the heads up. My men have already started on their way to Lord Lonato’s territory, so as soon as your classmates show up we’ll be leaving.” Catherine said, strapping her sheath into place over her shoulder. 

“Has there been any word from the frontline group?” Edelgard asked. 

“No. Nothing yet.” Catherine said nonchalantly as she ensured Thunderbrand was firmly in place. Edelgard looked at her, confused.

“Isn’t that concerning?” The heiress questioned further. 

“Not really. My men are good fighters, but paperwork isn’t their strong suit. I’d be more concerned if they sent a message our way than if they didn’t. Besides, a good brawl is a lot more fun than writing a report, so can you really blame them?” Catherine asked with a cocky grin. Edelgard silently prayed for mercy. She had just barely gotten used to Professor Eisner, and now there’s a woman who seems to be even worse. 

One was bad enough and now she was stuck with two. As the conversation wrapped up, Byleth and the rest of the Black Eagles finally made it to the front gate. 

“Good morning. Apologies for the delay.” Byleth said, offering her hand. Catherine took her hand and pulled her in, slapping the professor on the shoulder and laughing. Byleth returned the gesture and the two pulled back. 

“Not a problem, Professor. These two let me know what was going on.” Catherine said, gesturing to Edelgard and Hubert. “But we’ll need to move out, right away.” 

“Lead the way, Sir Catherine.” Byleth said, gesturing to the gate. 

“Hey, don’t you go starting that nonsense too. It’s Catherine.” The knight said pointedly. And with that, they were off for another mission. 

The march was a much shorter distance than the previous trek had been, but the hilly nature of Faergus made it much more draining on the students. The group managed to catch up to the knights rather quickly, and the mass of armor and black uniforms began mingling together. Finally, after the first hour everyone seemed to have settled in rather nicely. Dorothea was chatting with a rather tall woman whose armor marked her as a knight of Serios, while Leonie and Caspar were arguing with another knight about the viability of snapping an enemies neck in combat. The front of the caravan was made up of Byleth, Catherine, Edelgard and Ashe. The knight, professor and heiress chatted amongst each other while Ashe seemed lost in thought and not quite interested in joining. 

“It really does seem foolish...walking your own knights so surely into suicide. Not only raising your sword in rebellion against the Kingdom, but the Church Itself.” Edelgard pondered quietly. But not quietly enough. 

“He must have some reason. Lord Lonato is a good man…..I just don’t know what it could be.” Ashe muttered, looking down at the ground and sighing. 

“Good men are sometimes the most dangerous.” Catherine said. Her eyes were locked forward on the path, as if she were trying to look anywhere but at the people beside her. “Good men are willing to give their life for what they believe is right, and more often than not they do.” Catherine stopped talking, her teeth grit behind closed lips as she tried to push the thoughts from her head. Byleth rested her hand on Ashe’s shoulder. Even with her difficulty with emotion she could see the poor kid was trying not to cry. “Listen, Ashe, I’m sorry. I didn’t..” 

“No. You’re right.” Ashe said, cutting her off. “Cristophe was the same way. Bullheaded till the bitter end.” Ashe pulled back from the professors touch and walked ahead of them, wiping away a tear. Catherine looked as if she were about to try and follow, but something in the pit of her gut held her back. 

“Cristophe… I don’t remember that name. Is it someone they’ve talked about before and I just missed it?” Byleth asked, looking to Edelgard. The heiress shook her head no. 

“No. He’s never mentioned a Cristophe before.” Edelgard said, hand on the grip of her axe at her hip. Catherine ran her hand through her hair, which had grown damp with sweat. 

“It’s…. He’s his older brother. At least he was. It all goes back to Duscar.” Catherine said, almost mechanically. She sighed, taking in another deep breath of the thick, foggy air. “ Cristophe was found to be involved with the plot to kill the king of Faergus during his visit to Duscar. That’s why Lonato is doing this,princess, his son died on the Churches order, and he’s never forgiven Lady Rhea for it. He’s gone so far as to decry Rhea and the teachings of Seiros as false prophets and against the Goddess.” Catherine’s voice faded into something almost exhausted.

“Why would Lonato’s son want the King dead?” Byleth asked. 

“Faergus wasn’t always so close to the central church. The northern regional church that exists now was much more independent of the central church little more than a few years ago. There were many people in the Holy Kingdom that worried the king’s moves to build stronger ties with the central church was going to destroy that and leave them all as subjects of the Church as opposed to their king. Of course, the assassination only made that a self-fullfilling prophecy. With no heir to the throne being of age, one of the king’s closest friends and allies took interem power over the kingdom and has grown extremely dependent on the Church to maintain order and peace.” Catherine explained. 

“And the people of Duscar were all but massacred as retaliation.” Byleth said plainly. Catherine looked over and nodded. 

“And yet whenever anyone discusses the tragedy of Duscar, it’s always the king’s death they emphasize.” Edelgard muttered, her hand clenching into a fist as she spoke. 

“It’s not surprising.” Catherine said before Byleth could find the words. She continued as they began rounding a corner in the large path that they were following. “Hate for Duscan people was already pretty well normalized among the people of the Kingdom, and the pogroms that were carried out by the peasantry after the king’s death were unprecedented in their scale. So many people of Duscar fled or fell in battle that there was practically no one in the nation left when the Kingdom finally annexed it. There are so many Duscans in small communities spread across Fodlan. A scattered people have little voice to raise against the pain they’ve faced.” 

“The only reason I know much of anything about it is because several women from Duscar worked with our brigade in the years following the horrors.” Byleth finished, looking aside towards the two women beside her. She looked back to the road, and went still as she saw two men stood a little ways down the path, one astride a horse with a lance in hand and another in heavy black armor clutching Ashe by the shirt collar. Ashe’s axe lay discarded on the ground, but still the silver haired student thrashed in the black armored man's grip. 

“Ashe, please, stand down and I swear I will tell you everything once this is done.” The man on the horse said. His face was withered and wrinkled like aged leather, and his hair was even more white than Edelgard’s. The man turned to the mass of knights and students, raising his weapon to the air. “I am Lonato Gildes Gaspard! Lord of these lands and servant of the goddess! You are trespassers on my lands and servants of a vile beast who desecrates the good name of the Goddess! Lay down your arms and turn back, or you will be slaughtered!” The man declared. Catherine grit her teeth and clenched her hands around Thunderbrand’s handle as she heard the blasphemous slander this aged old bastard declared against Lady Rhea. Her men held their own weapons at the ready, but hesitation could be felt in the air. 

“Lonato, Please, don’t do this! Whatever is going on we can find a way to solve it!” Ashe pleaded from the iron grip of the black armored soldier. Catherine stepped forward, sword at the ready. 

“Let the boy go, Lonato. Immediately! Your empty threats will do nothing to sway the Knights of Seiros! Stand down and turn yourself over for judgement!” She screamed out. 

“Like you turned over my son to the monster you call Archbishop!?” Lonato yelled back, venom in his voice. “You have a twisted sense of humor to demand I release Ashe, as if you cared. But I know you, Catherine! I know you have no soul to care at all! Cristophe saved your life, and how did you repay him? Throwing him to the wolves to be slaughtered to save your own name!” Lonato’s voice grew more and more wrathful, spit flying from his mouth as the final words were spoken. Ashe’s eyes were fixed on Catherine, fear and confusion burning as tears began trickling out of them. “Enough! I’ve had enough of this. You die, here and by my hand! I will send you to the Goddess and let her condemn you for the pain you’ve caused. Men! Charge!” Lonato said, kicking his spurs into the sides of his horse, dropping his lance down so the tip was aimed for Catherine’s heart. 

As he galloped towards Catherine, from the woods all around them poured out men that charged with weapons at the ready. The forces, to everyone’s horror, weren’t simply knights but knights being bolstered by what appeared to be civilian militias, men weilding crude swords and with armor that appeared to be made from pig iron and repurposed metal plates. The lord’s forces and the church’s crashed against each other like a powerful wave on a stone cliff-face. Byleth pulled Edelgard out of the path of a malitiaman’s lance, smashing the man’s jaw with the back of her gauntlet. It was clear these men were untrained and inexperienced, but that didn’t mean they weren’t a threat. 

Leonie wove her way through the writhing mass of death around her, dodging the blades of knight and militiamen alike as she kept her eyes locked on her target, the armored knight holding Ashe hostage. She moved out of the path of a charging lancer and ducked behind a brawling duo. Her lance and bow were both nearly useless in a mass like this, so freeing Ashe was the priority. Once she had her training partner back, they’d be unstoppable.

Leonie saw a chance and charged forward, managing to break through the wall of fighters. She landed shakily, falling and tumbling in the dirt, but she managed to make it back up to her feet quickly. She pulled her bow from its spot on her back and readied to fight. 

Dorothea launched a fireball into a militiamen’s chest and ducked out of the way of an axe that looked to have been made out of an old hoe. The axe-wielder stepped forward for another swing, but an arrow buried itself into his unprotected throat. He fell back, gasping and sputtering for air as blood flooded his lungs. Dorothea saw another arrow dig into the side of a soldier's head a few feet away, and turned around to see Bernadetta and Petra running towards her, bows in hand. Bernadetta ran up and ensured she was ok as Petra replaced her bow with a short sword, standing at the ready to slash at anyone who moved towards them. Once she was proven to be completely fine, the three moved back into the action. Petra charged at the wall of men that had formed around them as the knights battled the soldiers, and her two compatriots covered her with spells and arrows as she made mincemeat of the flesh of her enemies. 

Edelgard swung her axe down into the skull of a soldier, practically splitting it in two. An arrow whistled inches above her head, and she ducked down in hopes of becoming a less obvious target. As she moved through the crowd she felt a heavy mass slam into her side, and before she knew what hit her she was being lifted off of the ground and then slammed back down onto it by a bare-handed militiaman who was now readying to slam his fist into her skull. She moved her head to the side, barely avoiding the heavy limb before grabbing it by the crook of the elbow with both hands, pulling it to her chest, and thrusting her hips up, launching the brawler onto the ground beside her. She held tight to the limb, looking feverishly and quickly grabbing her axe off the ground. Without even thinking, she swung, over and over, into the mans chest. His armor bent after the first swing, after the fourth she’d broken clean through it, after the eigth she’d caved in his chest cavity, and by the time she was finished she’d practically cut clean through his spine. Edelgard felt her throat burning, and she realised this entire time she’d been screaming. She stood up, face and clothes splattered with the blood of her fallen assailant, and backed away slowly as she saw the damage she’d done. 

Catherine dodged out of the way of the lord’s charge, lashing out with her blade but barely digging into the haunch of one of the steeds legs. She turned quickly as the lord looped around, readying for another attack. The horse however seemed to have seen better days, and took a long moment to finally start moving again. As the horse finally charged towards her, Catherine saw m Edelgard moving, backing away from something Catherine couldn’t see, directly into the path of Lonato’s old beast of a steed. Catherine screamed for her to move, but the girl either didn’t hear her or couldn’t comprehend.

Catherine muttered something rather unbecoming of a servant of the goddess under her breath and stepped forward, kicking the young heiress, quite literally in the ass and out of the way of the charging knight’s blade. However the lance did find a rather cozy home in Catherine's calf. The knight screamed as her muscle was torn open, and before she was even done she felt that same leg get crushed beneath the steed’s hoof. Catherine fell to the ground, her entire left leg a bloody mess, and she saw Edelgard, covered in blood, moving over towards her. The young woman held her axe in front of her, standing over Catherine and between her and Lonato. The lord screamed in rage, raising his lance, now red with Catherine’s blood, into the air. 

“You’ll die for betraying my son, you vile bitch!” Tears began dripping down his grime smeared face. “My son dragged you out of that fire and saved your life! He was your comrade, and you betrayed him!” Lonato screamed, his voice cracking at the word ‘him’. He looked prepared to go on, but he was cut short. 

“Lord Lonato, sir, help!” The knight in black armor yelled. Lonato turned and saw a woman with orange hair charging his second in command with a lance, while Ashe lay on the ground mere feet away. Lonato spurred his horse along, changing course and galloping towards the girl with his lance readied . He could not allow Ashe to fall into the clutches of the church, he’d already lost one child to them and he had no intention of losing another. He would not allow Ashe to be held for leverage to try and force him to step down. His reflexes however were not what they had once been, and when he finally came close to her with his lance she was able to swiftly move just out of the way. 

“Step away from him you demonic whore!” Lonato demanded, looking to his left to see Ashe looking at him in horror. 

“Lonato, please, stop this! They’re my friends!” Ashe begged. Lonato could only pray under his breath that Ashe would understand his decisions once everything was said and done. Lonato kicked his horse, and the aged old beast galloped towards the girl yet again. 

Leonie saw the haggard animal moving towards her, and tried to think of what she could do. The beast, while clearly aged and slowing, was still massive. She had abandoned her bow earlier out of fear of hitting ashe as opposed to the soldier, but her lance could only do so much. Her time to think came to an end however, and finally she grit her teeth and went on instinct. She lobbed herself to the side, out of the path of the lord’s lance, and buried the handle of her own into the ground beneath her, pointing the tip up. The mount moved closer, the tip of the spear buried itself in its chest, and Leonie saw the handle of her lance bending unnaturally until it finally broke from the weight. One piece of the handle snapped out and smashed her across the cheek, breaking the skin and splattering her face with splinters, sending her to the ground. 

Shortly after that, Lonato joined Leonie on the ground, his steed now dead with a half-foot of wooden handle sticking out of its chest. The heavy beast pinned Lonato’s leg, and it took him a moment to finally weasel loose. By the time he had and managed to stand and limp his way over to his lance, Leonie was finally starting to get to her feet herself. 

“Stand and die, you vile heathen!” Lonato ordered as she limped towards Leonie. 

“Lonato! Stop! Please!” Ashe screamed from a get feet to Lonato’s side, axe in hand. The young noble’s hands shook on the wooden handle, and Lonato could only stare as his own ward threatened him. 

“Ashe, do not meddle in things you do not understand!” Lonato ordered, looking at the child he’d raised for more than half a decade. 

“Then help me understand!” Ashe begged, cheek streaked in tears and dirt. Leonie looked at Ashe, having never seen her classmate so desperate. The two made eye contact, and Leonie worried Ashe might have a brain injury, the way the eyes she was looking into seemed to bounce over to the side before reconnecting with her own. Leonie looked over to where Ashe’s eyes kept bouncing and there, mere feet behind Lonato, was her bow. Leonie looked and saw Ashe nod, and she began crawling over to her weapon. 

“...They took my son! Your brother! They said he was part of the plot to kill the king but there was no proof! That vile woman, Catherine, turned him in to distract attention away from herself and let him be slaughtered just to save herself! The Archbishop she serves is no servant of the goddess! She’s a monster! A beast!” Lonato raved.Trying to explain why he was doing what he had to do. 

“Lonato, please, you’re not making any sense! Just tell your men to stand down, and let this be over with! Let us make peace and not destroy our home for petty revenge!” Ashe begged, as Leonie finally got her hands on her bow. Pulling an arrow from the quiver on her back. 

“Peace!? There can never be peace with the demons, boy! Did you really care for Cristophe so little, to just roll over and try to make peace with the heathen swine that slaughtered him? I’ll raze the entire damned Monastery to the ground, and from the ashes we can build a better world, a church that believes in the good of man, not in it’s manipulation!” Lonato declared. Ashe looked down, past Lonato, and saw Leonie staring back, arrow at the ready. Her eyes made it clear she was waiting for something, and Ashe knew what it was. 

“...Do it.” Ashe said, voice cracking at the disgusting taste of the words. Lonato looked at Ashe, confused, and he never felt the pain of the arrow burying itself into the base of his skull. He died instantly, his body falling to the ground in a limp pile of meat. Ashe’s knees buckled, and the silver-haired Eagle sobbed desperately, falling to the ground. Curling up onto the ground inches away from the man that’d only days ago called Ashe his son. 

Leonie ran over to Ashe, tears on her own cheeks as she tried to lift her friend off of the ground, but to no avail. Ashe had gone completely limp, the only seeming movement coming from the sobs that rocked the body that Leonie was only just now realising seemed so very, very small. Had Ashe always been so small? Looked so young? So afraid?

She tried again, this time laying Ashe’s head on her lap, and the yet-again-orphaned student sobbed against her, fingers dug into the fabric of her skirt. Leonie had no idea what to do, but she knew she had to do something, right? She rested her hand on Ashe’s shoulder, rubbing gently and trying to say whatever reassuring things she could remember Dorothea saying to Bernadetta whenever she was freaking out. 

It was several hours later before the mess was finally done with. The militiamen were either defeated or had fled into the woods, and the knights began collecting their injured and dead. Dorothea and Leonie were sat on the ground with Ashe, who had gone from grief-racked sobbing into a silent thousand-yard-stare. 

Edelgard walked over to a small spot off of the main path where Catherine was sat up against a tree, the leg of her pants torn open and soaked in blood. A knight held a glowing green hand over her calf muscle, trying to mend it with healing magic. Catherine saw Edelgard approach, and chuckled weakly. 

“What brings you over to my neck of the woods, princess?” Catherine asked, resting her elbow in the dirt and her head in her hand. Edelgard rolled her eyes. 

“Please, do not call me that… I just wanted to thank you.” Edelgard said, hesitating in the middle of her sentence. 

“What, for kicking your ass? My pleasure.” Catherine teased. Edelgard groaned, this woman really was just Byleth but worse. 

“For protecting me from Lord Lonato’s lance. Must you really make this so difficult?” Edelgard asked, hands on her hips. 

“Awe, cmon cut me some slack princess. I did lose a lot of blood.” Catherine said, gesturing to her calf. 

“Actually ma’am, your wound is surprisingly…” The healing mage interjected.

“Shut up, Nicholae.” Catherine said under her breath. Edelgard sighed and shook her head. 

“You’re right, even if you’re...not. Either way, thank you. I hope I can repay you one day.” Catherine looked at her, something strange coming over her eyes as she did. 

“Just try not to get yourself killed. Live a long, happy life and stay the hell out of shit like this. That’s how you can repay me, princess.” Catherine said. 

Edelgard walked out of the woods and joined the rest of the class, which Byleth had managed to gather together and walk to their comrades sat on the ground. Leonie gave Byleth a disheartened look, and Ashe remained quiet. 

“I….” Bernadetta started, hesitating for a moment. “I can’t believe it...all of those people, sent out into a massacre like that.” She continued on. 

“It was vile.” Ferdinand muttered through grit teeth. “A noble protects his people, he doesn’t march them to war like lambs to the slaughter.” 

“I’m all for a fight against all odds, but those men didn’t have a chance.” Caspar said, disheartened. 

“Oh quit being so full of yourselves, the lot of you.” Dorothea chastised, standing up and wiping dirt from her skirt. “You’re not some undefeatable masters because you grew up with money and a crest in your blood. Quit talking about those people like they were livestock butchered without difficulty. We’re lucky all of us survived, plenty of the knights didn’t.” Dorothea continued, at her whits end. 

“These people weren’t helpless pawns, they cheered Lonato’s name when they fell.” Leonie pointed out. “They believed in his cause, and they knew what they were getting into. Don’t speak of them like children who didn’t know any better. It’s disgusting.” 

“Goddess, can you all really not shut up for a moment?!” Ashe asked, not waiting for a response before standing and walking away, moving to the other side of the path. The entire class looked a bit embarrassed. 

“Let him be.” Byleth ordered as Leonie was readying to stand and follow Ashe. “Now, let’s everyone back away from our comrade’s throats. I won’t have any infighting among you. What we saw today is the reality of war. It’s not just soldiers you will fight. War is changing, every day someone thinks of new tactics, new weapons, or some new spell. Our opponents were men driven by a feeling of justice, however misguided, and at the very least that earns respect. A war, no matter what it’s about is a battle of ideas made blood. It doesn’t matter who you face, whether a pauper, a lord, a bandit or the goddess herself, you can never lose sight of what you fight for. Whether that is your allies and comrades, or something grander is up to you, but you can never forget what you’re fighting for.” Byleth said. She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, completely missing the rather impressed look on Edelgard’s face as she turned to follow Ashe. 

The professor sat down next to her student, not saying a word. She saw Catherine step out of the woods, and start limping towards her, but several students stopped her and pulled her over to the rest of the class. Byleth sat there for several minutes silently, and every once in a while Ashe would take a deep, shuddering breath. After a while the professor reached over and patted Ashe on the shoulder. Her student looked at her, face still red and cheeks slick. 

“Professor...did I do the right thing?” Ashe asked, looking at lord Lonato’s body on the side of the road.

“That’s not something I can tell you ashe. That’s not something anyone can tell you except you.” She paused, unsure of how to continue, but she saw the way Ashe’s eyes clung to the body, trying to hold back tears. “No one is going to fault you for being sad he’s gone, Ashe. He means a lot to you, that’s not something that changes because you end up on opposite sides of the battlefield.” 

“...he was going to hurt Leonie...he was going to hurt anyone he needed to. He was talking madness. I just had no other choice.” Ashe said, whimpering pitifully. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this, Professor.” 

“I disagree.” Ashe looked at her, confused. “You made a call that very few people could, because you put the lives of your comrades above your own personal ties and feelings. You put yourself in Lonato's path even when you knew it was risky. I have seen plenty of men flee for far less.” Byleth explained. 

“Thanks professor…” Ashe said after a long pause. “For everything.” 

“Of course, Ashe.” She pat her student on the shoulder and stood up, offering a hand that Ashe shakily accepted. “Let’s go see what has your classmates so riled up.” 

The two walked back to the rest of the class. Several students were reading over a large scroll, and when they approached Edelgard, who was holding the scroll, looked up with a rather shocked expression. Byleth had a sneaking suspicion life was not about to get any simpler for the Black Eagles. 

“Professor….” Edelgard said holding out the scroll, “This letter is from the western church, it says that there’s an assassination plot against the Archbishop.”

Byleth despised being right. She took the message and read it through. The plans were clear. 

She walked over to Catherine, who was sat on the ground quite a ways away, about as far away from the class as she could be. 

“Are you ok?” Byleth asked, pointing to the knight’s bloodied pant leg. 

“Yup, doc says i’m healthy as a horse, well, any horse but Lonato’s.” Catherine said with a chuckle, but it was weak. Dying about as quickly as it left her lips. “ So, you read the message?” Byleth nodded. “We’ll need to get this to Lady Rhea immediately. We can’t allow any harm to come to her.” Catherine said, standing up from the ground and grabbing her blade from its spot stabbed into the damp soil. 

“Give my students a few more minutes, and we can leave. If we move swiftly we should make it back to the monastery by dark.” Byleth said as she gave Catherine the scroll. The knight stepped forward and took the message, only to wince in pain as she rested weight on her bloodied leg. Byleth furrowed her brow. “Are you going to be able to walk?” 

“Oh yeah,” Catherine said through grit teeth. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry ‘bout me professor.” Byleth shook her head, but wasn’t going to offer help where it wasn’t wanted. “Let’s roll out at noon. That’ll give you about half an hour to ready your kids.” 

Even with the decline of the path back to the monastery, the several injured knights made for a much longer walk then they’d expected. As the sun began to set, Catherine finally accepted help from one of her knights, and walked alongside Byleth and Edelgard at the back of the caravan. Ashe stayed towards the front of the group, alongside Leonie and Dorothea, for the majority of the walk, but about an hour after nightfall the orphaned student suddenly turned around, walking through the group until finally reaching Catherine. 

“What did Lonato mean that you betrayed Cristophe?” Ashe asked, voice hanging somewhere between begging, rage, and holding back tears. Catherine looked at Ashe, grasping for words before finally sighing and looking down, defeated. 

“Let….Give me just a second.” Catherine said, before yelling at her men and telling them to stop and make camp on the trail where they stood. Byleth took the queue and gave the same order to the Black Eagles. Catherine let go of the knight who had been helping her walk, and gestured for ashe to follow her. She went to walk off of the path, but the moment she rested weight on her leg the knee gave out and she went down. Byleth reached out and managed to help her keep herself upright, much to the knight’s embarrassment. “Hey professor, you uh….mind helping me out here? Looks like it’s a bit stiffer than I thought.” Byleth nodded and helped Catherine support her weight as the three of them moved over to the edge of the tree line. Catherine sat on the ground, resting her leg and waving for them to join her. Byleth sat, but Ashe stayed standing. 

“What did he mean, Sir Catherine?” Ashe demanded. Catherine rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. She really wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation, but she figured the kid was owed it. 

“When….When I was a student at the academy, I was in the Blue Lion house. Cristophe was one of my classmates.” Catherine explained. Ashe looked ready to interject but Catherine held up her hand. “Please, just...let me explain. When we were in school together, we became close. Cristophe was a good friend of mine, even after graduation.” Catherine took a deep, shaking sigh and looked down. She couldn’t look Ashe in the eye for this. “But he was foolish. Too trusting for his own good. He was a good man, with all the faults that entails. He...He was pulled into a plot by the Western Church targeting Lady Rhea. He was told what they wanted him to do would be in service to the goddess, and so he didn’t question it. When he was discovered...he came to my home. There was a manhunt throughout the Kingdom, and I...I sent a letter to Lady Rhea informing her where Cristophe was.” Catherine said, looking up at Ashe. 

“You….you turned my brother in?” Ashe asked, voice cracking. Catherine nodded, and bit her tongue as she felt something trickling down her cheek. She grit her teeth. She couldn’t let this break her, she’d spent years building her life up from that awful day, she wouldn’t let it fall out from underneath her. 

“I did. Lady Rhea saved me when I was in the Academy. I owe that woman my life...and Cristophe intended to kill her. I did what I had to do to protect the people I love.” Catherine tried to justify herself, but whether it was to Ashe or herself no one quite knew. 

“And what of Cristophe!?” Ashe asked, tears once again pouring out. The salt stung the raw and red flesh of Ashe’s cheeks. “Lonato said he saved you as well. Why did you not afford him that same love!? He saw you as someone so close he could trust you with his life, he came to you in his most dire moment!” 

“Ashe, I have no idea what Lonato meant by that.” Catherine said. She, for all her attempts, couldn’t remember a time Cristophe had saved her. 

“Well maybe you ought to find out. Lonato may have been a spiteful man, but he was never a dishonest one.” Ashe said, storming back off. Catherine looked over to Byleth, and the professor could just sit there looking back blankly. Goddess, this day had become a cluster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sadly, things were a bit crazy throughout the week. For a little ‘peak behind the curtain’, I’m a healthcare worker and as such while my free time has been increased by the quarantine, I am still working and also picking up extra work as Covid-19 hits my community. So while I got a lot of writing done ( I’m sure yall will love what I have in store for you these next few weeks), I wasn’t able to get enough done that I felt I could justify dumping two chapters in a week. Plus, if I’m not giving too much away, next week's chapter has some pretty big shit and I felt like dropping it a week early would just dump way too much all at once. So, This week is just a standard chapter, around 6k words, but next week I have a super-sized chatper ready for yall that I hope can let yall forgive my dumb gay ass.


	7. Chapter 7: Girls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! So, this weeks chapter is kind of a big one, and y’all will see why when you read it. However I officially have to add some new warnings: this chapter will contain smut, graphic depictions of consensual rough sex, and also allusions to gender dysphoria. I’ve been really anxious about this chapter, so I really hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> Also, thanks as always to @The_Unqualified1 for helping proof-read this weeks chapter!!!! Go read her stuff!

Catherine and Byleth stood in the grand light of the Audience Chamber, Seteth holding the scroll they had found on Lonato’s corpse. They’d reported the threat to the Archbishop the moment their battle-wearied mass of knights and students had reached the Monastery that morning. 

“This is very distressing, to be certain.” Seteth said as he read over the message. Rhea looked nonplussed at Catherine, who was leaning on Byleth for support. “We will need to maximize security. We can not allow these would-be assassins to come anywhere near the Archbishop. Catherine, I hope your men will be able to increase their numbers on Guard this upcoming month?” 

“Well, yes, but with the men we lost in this last attack, alongside the amount of people who will be coming and going for the Rite, I’m unsure if my unit alone will be enough to maintain security. We can cover the entrances and the main pathways, and I can guard Lady Rhea as I always do, but we would need help watching the rest of the event if we wanted to ensure Lady Rhea’s security. Perhaps the Professor here and her class could assist us?” Catherine said, gesturing to Byleth. Seteth’s expression made his displeasure at the idea plain to see. 

“Hmmm, I’m unsure given the professors... let's call it checkered, mission history if it’s be wise to entrust her with such a vital mission. ” the green haired Lord said, hand on his chin. 

“Professor Eisner’s class didn’t show anything in the field yesterday that would make me doubt their ability for this type of task. Also, they’ve already worked with my men, so they would trust them more than they would the Lions or Deer. We were leaning on them in more ways than one when Lonato attacked.” The Archbishop looked rather pleased at Catherine’s comments, which made the knight’s stomach tie into a rather tight knot. Lady Rhea’s smile always did. 

“I think that is a wonderful idea. I can tell your student’s have grown greatly, thanks to your skilled instruction. I did hear that they were less than ecstatic to face peasant fighters, but use this as an opportunity to teach them that no matter who dares to raise their fists against the goddess’s love, peasant, civilian, knight or noble alike, all must be vanquished the same to protect the peace and righteousness of Fodlan.” Seteth went a bit white at the Archbishops comments, and Byleth felt something between rage and disappointment burning in the back of her mind, likely the product of Sothis’s emotions melding with what little of her own existed. “We must make this no different, while I know these vile, blasphemous traitors of the western church pose no threat to me we can not allow such herrisey to go unpunished. I hope we can count on you both?” Byleth and Catherine both nodded. “Wonderful. Professor Eisner, why don’t you help Catherine to Manuela’s office and see about that leg.” Rhea was walking away before she even finished her sentence. 

“Wait, Lady Rhea, I need to ask you…” But the Archbishop and Seteth were gone. “Figures. Ok let’s get this over with.” Catherine said, and Byleth helped her hobble to Manuela’s office. 

“Well, what a wonderful surprise.” Manuela teased from the edge of her doorway as they limped closer. “Usually I prefer to take my company one at a time, but I’m sure I can make an exception for the two of you.” The dress-clad Professor shit the two a wink. Catherine wore a shit eating grin, still gritting her teeth from the pain of walking, but she managed a laugh.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. A girl’s gotta look her best for a night out with such a pretty lady. I’m not even wearing clean pants.” Byleth grunted a bit and helped the knight lay down on a cot by the wall. 

“Her leg was injured in battle, cut to ribbons and then smashed by a horse’s hoof. She was triaged, but needs more in-depth repair.” Byleth explained to Manuela before turning to the knight in front of her. “I’ll see you when the ceremony is upon us, Sir Catherine. Please try to avoid getting into too much trouble.” Manuela ‘hmph’ed from beside her. 

“Awe, don’t be a stranger Professor. The offer is still open to join me for training. I’m sure Manuela here’ll have me fit as a fiddle by morning. Also, knock it off with the formalities.” Catherine said, waving her away. Byleth took the queue and left quickly. As she left, a blue-haired woman wearing a green jacket and with a bow slung over her back walked past, going in the direction of Manuela’s office. 

_“They aren’t targeting Rhea.” _Sothis said, startling Byleth from her thoughts.__

__“How could you know that?” She wondered._ _

___“I am able to remember some things from the previous times we’ve taken this road. As strange as things are this time, that piece has never changed. They’re targeting the catacombs beneath the Monastery, because they’re only ever open during the Rite.” _Sothis explained. Byleth had no reason to doubt her, but still was concerned. She decided she’d speak to her students and see what they thought, and headed towards her classroom.__ _ _

____ _ _

____“Professor!”_ _ _ _

____Byleth stepped out of the staircase leading down from the upper offices. She turned towards the sound to see Edelgard running up the path from the classroom with Hubert close behind._ _ _ _

____“Professor! We got word of this month’s mission from Lord Seteth. I need to talk to you about something.” Edelgard looked around quickly and continued in a hushed whisper. “I don’t think the Western Church is targeting Rhea at all, I think..” Byleth cut her off._ _ _ _

____“It’s a distraction. They’re going to be going for the catacombs beneath the monastery and want us focused on the Archbishop so even if we were to figure it out it’d be too late.” Byleth said. Both student’s looked at her, rather shocked._ _ _ _

____“Oh, well, yes. In fact that’s exactly what I was going to say.” Edelgard said. She was confounded, how had the professor figured it out already?_ _ _ _

_____“Dammit you idiot! Please try to have some subtlety. You are going to draw suspicion by saying things like that so matter of factly to your students. You might even implicate yourself as being party to the conspiracy.” ____ _ _ _

______Byleth felt the world shatter and lurch around her, and when it finally stopped she was back at the foot of the stairs, and a familiar voice rang out._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Professor!” Byleth turned and saw her students once again running up the path from the classroom. “Professor! We got word of this month’s mission from Lord Seteth. I need to talk to you about something, I don’t think the Western Church is targeting Rhea, I don’t think our enemy is after Lady Rhea at all!” Edelgard said breathless, whispering as she looked around nervously._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hm.” Byleth said, trying to buy time as she thought of a good reply. “It would make for a good distraction, and it would explain why the message was so sloppily encoded.” Edelgard beamed at her, cheeks going a bit red as she nodded._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Precisely! I think they are after something else, and they want us distracted protecting Rhea.” Edelgard whispered._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Lady Edelgard, we should continue this conversation elsewhere.” Hubert whispered._ _ _ _ _ _

______The three of them moved quickly out from the stairway, towards a large sitting area overlooking the hills and valleys surrounding the Monastery. Hubert continued speaking once they were suitably alone._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’ve been speaking to the other students, and they had several ideas about potential other targets.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I have been thinking on that myself.” Byleth said, sat on one of the benches. “I think they’re going to target the catacombs underground. If they’re only open for the Rite, then that would make sense why they chose them to strike. If their target where something else they could strike at any time, so why wait Until the Rite?” Edelgard and hubert looked at each other for a moment and nodded, it did make sense._ _ _ _ _ _

______“So how do we proceed?” Edelgard asked._ _ _ _ _ _

______“The Rite isn’t for another several weeks. We have no choice but to bide our time and train. We’ll continue as usual, and when the day comes we’ll put guards on the door and trap our opponents when they’ve backed themselves into a corner.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hmmmm.” Hubert hummed. “That is certainly one of the better plans I’ve heard from you, Professor. Should we collect our classmates for training tonight?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“No. Rest is important, and training the night we’ve just made it back would only risk burning them out like an over-lit candle. We will take the day to rest, and let training resume tomorrow. Go, the both of you. Enjoy your day and I expect to see you bright and early.” Hubert bowed and walked away, but Edelgard hesitated for a moment, and scratched at her arm nervously._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Professor...I was thinking of having some tea, would you care to join me?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth thought for a moment, and could find no reason not to._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I would.” She said standing up. “Lead the way.” the Professor gestured towards the path towards the courtyard. Edelgard walked on and Byleth followed close behind her._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Leonie picked at her dinner later that same night, lost in thought. The Professor was sitting at the end of the table, chatting with the other students about some matter related to the next day’s training, but Leonie couldn’t seem to focus on it. Every time she would look up and try to focus her eyes would be more drawn to the empty space where Ashe usually sat. She hadn’t seen anything of her classmate since they’d arrived that morning, and she was starting to worry._ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Should I go look for him?” _She thought to herself. _“I doubt he’d want to see me, anyway. What should I even say? ‘Hey ashe, thanks again for giving me the go-ahead to shoot your father figure in the back of the head. Anyway nice weather huh?’ isn’t exactly a good opening line. But he shouldn’t be alone at a time like this….the entire walk back he was just so quiet.” _Leonie sighed and poked at a chunk of beef with her fork. She likely would’ve spent the entire night sat there thinking had Byleth not spoken up.____ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Leonie. Leonie!” Byleth said, louder the second time as the orange-haired girl snapped back to reality._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Y...Yes, Professor?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Why don’t you go take Ashe a plate from the kitchen. He shouldn’t miss a meal with the training we’ve got lined up for tomorrow.” Byleth instructed. Leonie nodded weakly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yes, Professor. Will do.” Leonie mumbled as she stood and walked towards the front of the dining hall. She requested another plate, and when the food was brought out she headed towards the dormitories._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It took her a while to finally make it to the door of Ashe’s quarters, the stairs proving quite difficult while holding a large plate loaded with food. Once she did reach the door, she tried to wedge the plate between her arm and chest to have a hand free to knock, but thought better when the plate almost fell out of her grasp. She took hold with both hands and sighed, wheeling her foot back and kicking the bottom of the door with her boot, knocking much too hard. There was a long silence, and she kicked again. Finally a voice rang out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Just...Just a minute.” Leonie heard Ashe say, and after several minutes of rustling the door finally opened. Ashe stood in the doorway, wearing a clearly hastily thrown on uniform. The jacket was sloppily buttoned, and Leonie could see a floral patterned collar beneath it. It looked very nice. “H...Hey Leonie. Did you need something?” Ashe asked, eyes and cheeks clearly still red and raw, however they looked dry. Leonie wanted to reach out and hug her poor friend, but the plate was rather inhibiting to that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“No..I um...I just wanted to bring you some dinner. Professor Eisner said we’re in for a hell of a day tomorrow, and we wanted to make sure you had some food…” Ashe blushed a bit as Leonie held out the plate before taking it from her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh...thanks, Leonie. That means a lot….” The young noble’s reply was barely more than a muttered whisper, There was a long, awkward silence. Leonie toyed with her own fingers until she finally couldn’t take it any more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“H..how are you doing?” Leonie asked, rather desperate to keep the conversation going. Ashe sighed and set the plate aside._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“It’s...it’s hard. I honestly don’t know how to feel about everything. It’s just all such a mess in my head still…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Leonie felt her eyes sting as she finally got the courage to ask what she’d been too afraid to since they’d left Faergus._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Do you hate me...for what I did?” Leonie asked, embarrassed at the way her voice cracked when she asked, and the way her face was starting to feel wet. Ashe looked horrified._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“N..no! Of course not!” Ashe stepped closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Leonie you were only there in the first place to save me…I just...it’s just not fair. First Cristophe, and now Lonato...and now it’s just me and my brother and sister again…” the young nobel’s voice trailed off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Leonie pulled her classmate, her friend, into a tight hug and all attempts at holding back tears on either side were given up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________After a minute or two Ashe pulled back. “I….I think I need to go to sleep. Thanks for coming by, Leonie.” Ashe said, awkwardly. Leonie blushed a bit and rubbed at the back of her head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Of course! Just….take care of yourself Ashe, you’re a good guy. I’ll um...see you tommorow?” Ashe sighed and nodded, refusing to look her in the eye._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yeah, I’ll see you in class tomorrow. Good night, Leonie.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Good night Ashe. Oh, and I like your shirt. The flowers are very pretty.” Ashe went beat red as Leonie pointed to the exposed fabric._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh, um, thanks. Good bye!” And like that Ashe slammed the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Leonie started walking back to the dining hall, wondering to herself what in the hell had just happened. Was Ashe uncomfortable about liking flowers or something? Granted, Ashe wasn’t the most ‘manly’ but with students like Lorenz on the campus was that really much of a concern? Her mind was bogged down with these thoughts as she sat down and began eating._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Back in Ashe’s bedroom, the plate of food was left uneaten. Ashe had collapsed onto the ground, leaning back against the door. “What did I do?!” Ashe wondered out loud. “She’s probably thinking i’m angry at her or something. I can’t believe I lost my cool like that! Goddess….I need to be more careful next time.” Ashe said, changing out of the hastily put on uniform._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________As the jacket was discarded, the ‘shirt’ underneath was revealed to in fact have no sleeves, simply a light lace that wrapped around the shoulders. When the uniform pants joined the discarded jacket, the mass of thin fabric that had been tucked into the waist fell loose, ending just below Ashe’s knees. She sighed and looked down at the floral nightgown. Ashe moved to look in the mirror and smiled weakly as she saw herself, for just a brief moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She’d needed to dress quickly when Leonie was at the door, and had hoped that the jacket and pants would be enough to cover it, but it seemed she’d mis-buttoned the collar and left the neckline exposed. It had been a stupid mistake, but thankfully it didn’t seem like one that would result in much._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Ashe didn’t quite know why she was the way she was, and hadn’t ever met anyone else like her. To be quite honest she didn’t even know if there was anyone else like her. Perhaps she was just some strange, isolated case. It was tiring, and confusing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She didn’t mind how she looked, even if there were some aspects of herself she had less than ideal relationships with. She did, however, hate the uniform she was forced to wear. Not the pants themselves, they were fine. She actually liked the way they looked, what bothered her was that they ensured no matter who she interacted with she’d be condemned to a conversation full of ‘sir’s, ‘lord’s, and ‘young man’s. She hated it. Even hearing Leonie redder to her as a ‘good guy’ made her taste bile in the back of her throat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She knew it was meant to be praise. But it didn’t matter, it didn’t help. No matter whether it was being called a good guy, or handsome, or an “upstanding young man”. It was simply infuriating to be forced to remember that the person everyone around her saw when they looked at her and the person she saw in the mirror seemed to be completely different people._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She’d thought about talking to her classmates, or even just Leonie, about what she was going through. Maybe one of them had heard of others like her and could point somewhere to learn more. But how could she talk about something when she barely had any idea how to describe what she was going through? ._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She felt so very tired. Whether it was of mourning her father, or of pondering the mess that was her life in general she wasn’t quite sure. She sighed and blew out her only remaining lit candle, deciding it was time to sleep. She moved over to her bed and collapsed back into the spot she’d been laying when Leonie had woken her up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The next few days passed by in a blur of intense training followed by intense study. Byleth was even more brutal in her training regimine than she had been the weeks prior, driving her students harder and harder each day. The first few days were difficult as the students were adjusting to an even more intense workload, but soon enough they fell into the brutal training as a simple matter of routine. Ashe remained quiet throughout the week, only ever really occasionally chatting with Leonie, or responding if spoken to by a classmate or Byleth directly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________At the end of the first week, Byleth spent her Sunday resting and reading through some of her student’s work from their days in the classroom until Edelgard knocked and invited her to tea.  
“Ok, just give me one minute.” Byleth said, closing the door and going over to her desk. She pulled something from one of her drawers, stuffing it into her pocket as she stood and walked out the door and off to the gazeebo alongside the princess. They sat down at their same spot, and Edelgard began preparing the tea. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________As the princess finished her pour, Byleth pulled a small box from her pocket, setting it on the table Edelgard looked confused as Byleth slid her the box._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Happy birthday, Edelgard.” She said, taking her hand away. The princess looked back at her, expression a bit dumbstruck as she picked up the box_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Professor, you didn’t have to.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“But, I did.” Byleth said in her usual monotone, taking a sip from her cup. Edelgard opened the box, and inside was a brown vial, sealed at the top with a cork. She looked confused, pulling the cork out with a ‘pop’ and holding the vial a little closer. She thought she might be going insane, as all she could smell was the tea, but it was so much more powerful. Edelgards eyes went wide as she realized what it was._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“It’s bergamot oil.” Byleth said, stating the obvious. “You seemed to enjoy smelling your tea last time, so I thought perhaps it’d be something pleasant for the road, when tea isn’t much of an option.” Edelgard smiled, and Byleth enjoyed the sight._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Thank you, Professor.” She said, clutching the bottle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“It’s not a problem, really.” Byleth assured her student._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Still, thank you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________After that the two returned to drinking their now lukewarm tea. As the afternoon dragged on, the conversation bounced from topic to topic. It started as a causal conversation about the Rite of Rebirth, and then about some apparent drama between Hidla of the Golden Deer and a girl from the Blue Lions. Byleth really wasn’t one for gossip? But Edelgard seemed to enjoy talking about it and it didn’t bother the professor. After a while the conversation turned to Edelgard discussing the empire’s history, which somehow turned into trying to explain the rather strange dynamic of Imperial lineage._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“So wait, I thought only the emperor’s wife could have an actual heir to the throne?” Byleth asked, confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Well, in the Kingdom that’s the case, but the Adrestian Empire is different. Family is defined much more fluidly. The regent can have many consorts, and as long as there is a direct blood link they can have a claim to the throne. My own mother was one of many partners my father has had in his reign.” Edelgard said sipping at her tea._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“So, how does your mother feel about that kind of thing?” Edelgard was silent, staring at the tea in her cup with eyes that seemed almost glazed over. “Edelgard?” Byleth asked leaning forward and resting her hand on Edelgards, trying to get the princesses attention. The Hresvelg pulled her hand back, violently, her eyes snapping to focus in an instant._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I...apologies professor. I seem to have forgotten I had an appointment with Professor Manuela. I’ll need to be leaving.” She said, standing up and walking away quickly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“....” Byleth sat there, confused. As she looked down at her cup of still-steaming tea. She didn’t feel much like drinking anymore now, which confused her a bit. She picked up her dishes and took them to the kitchen. “That...that was odd, yes?” Byleth asked, under her breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Yes, I would certainly say so. That’s not even something I can blame on you. As much fun as it is being able to do so. But, you humans do seem so obsessed with punctuality.” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Well, we can’t all be gods with power over time.” Byleth muttered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________“You say that as if you are, in fact, not someone who has access to my abilities.” _Sothis teased.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“The point stands. Now, with that strange turn of events, I have some time to fill.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________“You could use it to finally get some actual sleep.”__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Unlikely.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Oh, for goodness sake, you do actually need to sleep sometimes you know? Your little cat-naps aren’t going to be able to keep you going forever.” _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“It’s not my fault sleep eludes me. Whenever I do try to sleep, I find my mind haunted.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“The girl in the hat was right, you are rather dramatic for someone with no emotion.” _Byleth roller her eyes, wandering the grounds aimlessly. _“If you’re going to insist on doing something besides the thing your body vitally needs, might I recommend training? You’re pushing your students, but the increased paperwork has led to you losing quite a bit of practice.” _Byleth nodded for a second, that wasn’t actually a half bad idea. She started making her way towards the training Arena as the mid-afternoon sun shone down on her._____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She pulled open one of the large wooden doors and felt a wave of warm air rush out. It felt rather nice in the cool wind blowing in from the east. Byleth walked in and heard the clang of metal on metal, and she had a sneaking suspicion about who it might be practicing this late._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Sure enough, there was Catherine alongside two rather haggard-looking knights. Byleth leaned against a stone pillar and watched the woman at work._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________One of the knights swung at her with a blunted axe, the heavy blade coming straight down towards her shoulder until she threw her own blade into its path, knocking it aside before slamming her sword handle into the man's chest, knocking him back and the wind from his lungs. While he staggered back, his compatriot charged forward with a lance. The short blunted blade at it’s tip was aimed directly for her chest plate, and it might have landed had she not swung her still-raised blade down onto the wooden pole that supported it, snapping the blade off before it even had a chance to touch her. She kicked the man's legs out from under him and held the blunted training swords tip to his throat. The blonde woman chuckled and tossed her training sword aside, reaching out her hand and helping the man up onto his feet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Good job, Thomas. Your charge is still weak, your speed however has improved greatly. Keep it up and you may actually land a blow on me before I die of old age.” Catherine said, jostling the young man's shoulder before turning to pick up her sword. That was when she noticed Byleth, leaned against the pillar with her arms crossed. A wicked grin grew across Catherine’s cheeks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She turned to the two knights, or perhaps they were knights in training, and told them they were relieved, turning to Byleth as she made a dramatic bow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I do hope you enjoyed the show, Professor.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I’m glad to see you seem to have been healed fully, Catherine. You certainly have theatrics down.” Byleth commented as she stood from the pillar and moved closer. “But if that flailing is what you call fighting with a blade, I am curious to see if you have any control at all in your hand to hand. I’ve seen brawlers with a more restrained neck snap than that little display of yours.” Byleth finally stopped, now stood about 3 feet from the knight, looking up slightly to meet the blonde’s gaze._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Well, that’s why I was hoping you’d take me up on my offer. I gotta get my brand new leg some more exercise, and I need more experienced brawlers to help me improve. Who better to teach me than a professor?” Catherine’s smirk never left her face. It did indeed make sense._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You’re more sensible than I thought.” Byleth’s comment seemed to make Catherine amused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I’ll take that as a compliment.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You should. Being a commander in the Knights of Seiros, I assumed you were rather sensible. So, how would you like to train?” Byleth asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I should be the one asking you, Professor.” Byleth could admit it had been silly to ask._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Fine. Take off your armor then.” Byleth said, reaching up and beginning to undo her cloak._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh my, Professor perhaps you misunderstood me when I asked for advice on hand to hand.” Byleth rolled her eyes at the knight’s teasing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You intend for me to throw a barehanded punch against you knowing you’re half covered in hardened steel plate? Or do you intend for me to do such in a full set of brawling gauntlets? Either way one of us is being sent to Manuela’s office. Clothing remains on, armor however should be removed.” Byleth instructed, removing her armor piece by piece. She remained in her tunic and pants, but she removed her boots._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Yes ma’am.” Catherine said as she removed her half-cape,breastplate, bracers, and her few scattered pieces of leg armor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Byleth walked the blonde to the middle of the arena and dropped down into her fighting stance, her knees bent, hips wide, with her arms raised and her fists in front of her face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“No punching in the throat, kidneys, between the legs, or the back of the head, understood?” Catherine nodded and the two lunged out at each other._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Byleth landed a restrained jab to Catherine’s ribs right off the bat, knocking the wind from her lungs. She went in for a follow up cross, but Catherine managed to block that and launch a cross of her own._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Byleth felt the fist smash into her shoulder, but thankfully the knight seemed to not have her full strength behind it. Whether that was consideration or being winded Byleth didn’t know. She blocked Catherine’s jab and grabbed her arm, launching an elbow out that seemed to do nothing at all when it connected with Catherine’s abdomen. The knight landed a few solid punches to Byleth’s side, and the professor responded with a knee to her side._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________It was about an hour until dinner when Edelgard left her dorm. She had managed to calm down a bit, and wanted to try and find the professor to apologize for her running off in the middle of tea for an appointment that didn’t exist. She knocked on Professor Eisner’s door at the commoner’s quarters and heard nothing. She knocked again, and again nothing. She sighed and figured the Professor must be in her office, and walked towards the classrooms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________The air had cooled considerably in the past hour or so, and the sky was starting to turn grey with the threat of rain. Edelgard enjoyed the rain, but it made her joints ache. She figured that was likely a byproduct of the strain the experiments she had endured had put on her body. It was that same strain that had turned her once chestnut-brown hair into the pale limp shock of white that she wore now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________The rain had been a reprieve to her back then, locked away in the cold stone beneath the Adrestian Imperial Palace. The rain was a comforting sound. She could hear it thudding the earth above her head, and for a few brief hours she could listen to that as opposed to her sibling’s agonized screams. It didn’t hurt that when it rained, the rats also tended to stay away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She clenched her fist. Now was not the time to think of the past. She had better things to worry about. However that was hard to say when she was walking around aimlessly searching for her professor. She still wasn’t quite sure why she cared so much about apologising, but she did. Perhaps it was out of a feeling of obligation. The gift she’d given had been rather nice. That had to be it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________The classroom, sadly, was also empty. Edelgard figured that left only one spot, and made her way towards the arena._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________The sparring carried on for what felt like years. Punches, elbows, knees and kicks flew back and forth with no end in sight. Byleth was breathing harder than she had since at least the ravine. She managed to get ahold of the knight’s arm, catching it after dodging a shoddy elbow, and used the leverage to throw the woman over her shoulder onto the ground. Catherine landed with a loud thud, and Byleth pressed her knee to the knights chest, pinning her down. Catherine panted for a moment, and Byleth was preparing to call the round._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She didn’t realize what was going on until the pain registered. The knight bit into her forearm, and used the chance to pull her own arm back, rolling out from under the professor’s knee.The professor tried to turn and face the knight but before she could Catherine was jumping up, grabbing her by the back of her neck, and pinning her against the floor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You never said biting was off limits.” Catherine muttered into Byleth’s ear, panting heavily and chuckling at her own joke. Her breath tickled against Byleth’s neck, making the professor’s skin break into goosebumps as a shiver ran down her spine._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________”That’s because it isn’t.” Byleth shot back, finding it suddenly more difficult to breathe even though Catherine was putting no weight on her chest. She felt a familiar feeling, almost ap sort of hunger that seemed to be crawling it’s way up her body from the pit of her stomach as her fingers dug into the stone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine made a rather drawn out “hmmm” sound, this time her mouth even closer to Byleth’s ear, and the professor felt her breath yet again, and again it was followed by a shiver and the hunger grew stronger._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Is that so? My oh my, Professor.” Catherine flipped her over, still pinning the professor against the ground. At least now the two were facing each other, both sweating and still panting from the fight. “Seems like you have quite a thing for the rough stuff.” She said, her grin made it seem like she was joking, but the whisper she said it and the look in her eye made it clear that it was anything but._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Byleth grit her teeth, both of her arms pinned above her head by one of Catherine’s hands.She knew it’d be easy to free herself, the way Catherine was positioned it seemed to be intentional, but at that moment her mind was more focused on other things._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You talk too much.” Byleth said, her voice shifted from it’s usual monotony to something that almost sounded like pleading._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Is that so? And what would you rather I do?” Catherine lowered her head, her mouth centimeters from Byleth’s ear, until the professor felt a sharp pain and shivered as the knight nibbled on her earlobe. Catherine pulled her head back, and the professor leaned forward until there was barely any gap between them, but she just swallowed as she tried to calm the hunger she felt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine let out a quiet “hm” from the back of her throat, grabbing a fist full of Byleth’s tunic and ripping her arm back, closing the gap between them and smashing their lips together. The professor groaned and returned the kiss hungrily._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine’s hand moved from their spots on Byleth’s wrists to her hips, and the professor buried her hands in the knight’s sweat-slicked hair, pulling her deeper into the kiss. The knight groaned into Byleth’s mouth as she felt her hair being pulled, taking the opportunity and sliding knee between the legs of the woman below her. her hands moved lower, about to cup Byleth’s ass, but she hesitated. The professor felt her move her head back, breaking the kiss._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Are...Is this...?” Catherine asked between pants. Byleth answered in her own way, by tangling her fingers back in the knight’s hair and pulling her back into the kiss. She seemed to get the message and Byleth felt Catherine’s fingers dig into her ass._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________The knight found it funny just how soft the professor's rear end was, when she could feel the taught muscle of the woman’s stomach shifting underneath her, and the strength in her arms when she was pulling her into another kiss._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine grasped Byleth by her hips, pulling her closer by pressing her thigh between the professor’s legs, drawing out a loud moan, muffled slightly by Catherine’s own mouth being in the way._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Before Byleth even knew what she was doing she was tearing at Catherine’s shirt, trying to pull it off. The knight took the queue and helped undo the ties holding it in place, a second later Catherine’s top was thrown aside, and the undershirt with it leaving the woman in the tight grey sports bra underneath_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Next, it was Catherine’s turn. She pulled Byleth up, lifting her tunic over her head and throwing it aside. The black fabric hit the ground, leaving her in just a tight undershirt beneath it. The knight’s fingers brushed against her scalp, and as soon as a hearty chunk of hair was between each finger the knight closed her hand into a fist and pulled away from her, pulling Byleth’s head back and to the side. Catherine buried her teeth into her neck, right where it sloped down towards her clavicle. Byleth bit back a moan as her nails dug into the skin of the knight’s back with one hand while the other remained tangled in her hair, drawing something between a grunt of pain and a moan from the blonde’s lips._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine’s head was still against her shoulder, kissing more than biting, when the knight began all but tearing off her undershirt, not nearly fast enough for the brawler’s tastes. Once the cotton garment was tossed aside, The professor felt Catherine’s head quickly move down to her chest, while the leg between her own moved away, only to be replaced with a hand. She groaned as at the teasing, light brushing of the knight’s fingers against her clit through the fabric of her pants, and tightened her grip on the thick mass of blonde hair as the knight traced the tip of her tongue around the edges of Byleth’s breasts, kissing along those same lines slowly a moment later._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She felt the professor writhe underneath her, hips rocking against her hand. She wrapped her lips around one of Byleth’s nipples, and her clearly well-practiced tongue lapped against the sensitive skin as she sucked gently._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Byleth moaned, one hand digging her short nails into Catherine’s back while the other was tangled in the mess of blonde hair. A few seconds later, the knight’s mouth was on her other nipple._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine dug the thumb into the muscle right where Byleth’s hip met her pelvis, exploiting the sensitive pressure point and drawing a sharp gasp from the professor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Not long after that Byleth felt two fingers hooking into the waist of her pants. She reached down and helped undo the tie holding them in place and a moment later Catherine was tossing the black-and-pink garment aside, followed shortly by the plain black underwear that’d been underneath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine pulled back, and Byleth saw a familiar hunger reflected back the knight’s eyes as she looked down at her. The knight moved, kissing and biting at Byleth’s skin just below her breasts, then at the top of her stomach, then down her stomach to her hip, and then Byleth let out a strained moan as she felt Catherine’s tongue brushed against her thigh, before she dug her teeth into the same spot, just inches from the spot the professor would much rather have her tongue. Byleth suddenly felt an absence of teeth biting into her leg, and looked down to Catherine staring back up at her from between her legs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“May I?” She asked, her voice barely a whisper. Byleth nodded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She felt Catherine’s tongue brush against her clit slowly, and her hands found their way back into the knight’s disheveled blonde hair. She continued her teasing little flicks of her tongue that Byleth swore we’re going to drive her mad, , barely touching her tongue to Byleth until finally Catherine brushed her clit just barely with her teeth before licking it desperately. Byleth’s breathing grew faster and faster, and both women were long past trying to remain quiet as Byleth’s thighs slowly tightened around Catherine’s head, every teasing nip with her teeth or slow, drawn out lick making the professor shudder just a bit harder, while her legs clenched around the knight’s head like a vice. She shuddered as she felt a gust of cold air brush against her sweat-covered skin, and Catherine heard a loud pop._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________The knight assumed it was the sound of either the professor's hip or her own jaw popping. The second seemed more likely, as she felt her jaw aching from the pressure around it. Byleth’s legs seemed to clench especially tight when she licked a specific spot, and as much as Catherine was enjoying herself she thought it best to end things before they were discovered. She gripped the professor's thighs, fingers digging into the firm muscle and rough, scarred skin as she repeated the same motion with her tongue faster and faster._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Byleth’s legs tightened to the point that, were the professor in her right mind, she might worry about cracking the poor knight's skull. But she finally felt the pressure that had been building inside her for what felt like decade release, and her moans echoed off the stone walls_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine felt the pressure trying to crush her skull finally relax as the professor laid back on cold stone, having at some point started arching her back without realizing it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Byleth took a moment and caught her own breath. She heard a chuckle as the knight collapsed onto the ground beside her, massaging her jaw with one hand. After a while, Byleth sat up, stretching out her spine._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine remained lounging on the ground, not ashamed to be eyeing the blue-haired professors backside. There were several rather impressive scars in view as well, and Catherine wasn’t quite sure which she found more interesting, the scars or what they were on. She felt the urge to trace one of the long faded marks with her finger, even reaching out to touch one before pulling it back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Do all your trainees end up with their heads between your legs, Professor?” Catherine jokes, hastily trying to distract herself. Her cocky grin only accentuated by the wet glisten the entire lower third of her face had in the torchlight._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“No. They don’t. And don’t you go expecting this to count as extra credit.” Byleth said. Catherine looked at her a moment wide eyed and laughed, her arms clutching at her own sides._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Is that a joke, Professor?! Dear goddess, I actually got the stone-faced Byleth Eisner to crack a joke!” Catherine said, as if she’d achieved some grand victory._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh quit your ego stroking. Goddess knows how long has passed. I need to get ready for dinner.” Byleth said as she went to stand, her knees still weak underneath her. She felt them give out on her first attempt, thankfully Catherine managed to catch her. However that only encouraged the woman’s taunting._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Aww, I’d offer to join you, but I just ate.” She helped Byleth get to her feet and let go. “I'm quite surprised, I never expected an Eisner to be the “love ‘em and leave ‘em” type.” Catherine teased._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“We both know that was nothing close to “love”, Sir Catherine. I’ve met plenty of women like yourself, and they were no different.” Byleth said, waving the knight off as she began pulling her pants on._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh, you wound me, dearest Byleth.” Catherine said, dramatically draping herself over the stone floor and feigning sorrow until the mercenary’s stoic gaze finally made her laugh. “Oh fine, you got me. There’s nothing wrong with blowing off a lil steam, right? It’s common enough among the knights when we’re out on a mission. So I can imagine a traveling mercenary is no different.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You wouldn’t be wrong.” Byleth said with a shrug. Byleth had, once she was leading smaller missions on her own, being involved in one or two dalliances with her comrades. She tied her pants in place as Catherine started pulling her robes and armor on. “But I will be honest, you’re the first person to be timid about starting it. Your hesitation before grabbing my behind seemed rather unlike you.” Byleth commented as she slid on her tunic._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“ Well...I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t misinterpreting anything, or making you feel like you had to.” Catherine said quietly, rubbing at the back of her neck. “But I mean you gave a pretty loud ‘yes’. I’m pretty sure my scalp is gonna be sore for days. Don’t even get me started on my back.” Byleth rolled her eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“If you take such light aches so deeply to heart I must wonder how you’ve survived so long as a knight.” Byleth said, poking Catherine in the chest as she spoke, earning her a laugh in response._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Ah, well perhaps we can do this again sometime and you can help me develop some thicker skin?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Perhaps. But I do think you’ll need some actual training as well. Your footwork was sloppy and your form was atrocious.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Ha, well I eagerly await your dutiful instruction, Professor.” Catherine said as she finished dressing. Byleth was done a moment later and the two started moving towards the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Well, don’t hold your breath Sir Catherine. My actual students take up a large amount of my time, and they’re my priority. But you’re welcome to join us on drill days if you’d like.” Byleth offered, opening the heavy wooden door, a click sounding through the room as the doors latch disengaged._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I told you, it’s just Catherine. I’m not too into being called ‘Sir’. ‘Ma’am’ maybe, but not sir.” Byleth got the feeling there was a joke she was missing. “But I’d love to join in for training some time. I’ll try popping in the next time I'm on the campus. Tomorrow Lady Rhea has me leaving for a few days to deal with a scuffle among some feuding lords up north.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Just be safe. I can’t train you if you’re dead.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Well, that just seems like a shortcoming in your skills as an educator more than anything.” Catherine teased. Byleth looked unamused. Was it unamused? Catherine couldn’t read this woman worth a damn and it was starting to bug her. “Fine, I’ll try to be safe. Good night, professor.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Good night, Catherine, and if you’re going to insist I drop the formalities then please practice what you preach. It’s Byleth.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Well then, good night Byleth.” Catherine said as she left, walking towards the knight’s quarters._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Edelgard leaned against the inside of the door to her room, hand over her mouth as she tried to unsee what she had just witnessed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________There had been a ruckus behind the door when she’d gone to enter the arena in search of Byleth, so she’d been certain that was where the professor was. But when she had opened the door all she saw was Catherine, naked and with her head between the professors legs! She’d swung the door shut as soon as she had her senses about her, but it had been like a train crash, she couldn’t look away. She could still hear the professors moaning and the captain of the Knights hoarse whisper, even there sitting in her dormitory._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________What in the name of the goddess had the Professor been thinking? Doing something like that somewhere so public?! Who does something like that in a training ground!? What was she even thinking, doing something like that with a woman like Catherine?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Something began bubbling up in Edelgard’s chest, making her stomach tight and uneasy. She was angry, but in a strange way that stung her eyes. Maybe Catherine was the perfect woman for Professor Eisner. They were both insufferable, rude fools. Clearly they were a match made in heaven for each other._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Edelgard collapsed onto her bed, thinking it best if she skipped dinner tonight. She suddenly was not feeling very hungry, and she was rather sure she didn’t feel like apologizing anymore either._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so if you made it this far then that means you read the chapter and I’m assuming enjoyed it. In which case I’m really glad! I’ve been talking a lot to @the_unqualified1 about this whole deal for a while now, and the past six chapters have been a lot of me trying to drop hints at some of this stuff without being too blunt that it felt like beating y’all over the head with it. 
> 
> I have been describing this chapter as “the literary equivalent to whipping your dick out for a tinder hookup”, basically joking that here is where I show exactly what we have got to work with for this story, so if you are interested in reading on I’m super excited, and if not then *shrug*. Some of y’all who follow my tumblr May have seen this coming, as a few weeks back I posted about how Ashe’s before and after time skip design screams “closeted trans woman”, and I really liked the idea of playing with the idea of how a trans person would process living in a world where homophobia doesn’t seem to exist but also where they don’t have the internet and things like the collective vocabulary around gender and transition we have today. And I feel like this may give chapter 3’s title a bit more context. I promise I put a lot more thought into my titles than I probably should hahaha. 
> 
> Also, not gonna front, I’m a trans woman and a lesbian, but I still was hella nervous about writing a smut scene between two cis lesbians. Also, if this is an area of concern, this fic isn’t gonna turn into a lemon grove. I believe strongly in smut as used to explore character, but that also means it is to be used sparingly. Plus I believe in quality, not quantity. 
> 
> I feel like saying “I hope y’all enjoyed” would be weird, but I do hope this chapter was fun enough y’all still are down to see how this shit plays out. I promise however you’re thinking it’ll play out you’re most likely gonna be surprised.let me know what you think! Lmao, please.


	8. Chatper 8: Avoid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week has passed by since the strange friendship brewing between Sir Catherine of the Knight's of Seiros and Byleth Eisner began, and as the two settle into a new routine of sorts and the Black Eagles continue their preparation for the Rite of Rebirth, some things seem strange on the grounds of Garreg Mach Monastery. Or does a pesky goddess just have too much free time on her hands?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm happy to introduce this weeks chapter! I am really happy that folks seemed to enjoy last weeks update, and I'm super excited to keep this story going and drag you all along on the absolutely batshit crazy adventure these gays have in their future. So enjoy!
> 
> Also, thanks as always to @The_Unqualified1 for proof-reading this weeks chapter! Go read her stuff!

Anyone from a mile around could see how Catherine beamed as she walked up the packed dirt of the road leading to the Monastery, the tall stone buildings growing closer every step she took. The mission she’d been stuck on throughout the past week had drained her, but she knew things would look up as soon as she led her men through the gates of Garreg Mach. Even with her muscles still aching from having to battle the hired sellswords of two different lords, she was excited. 

“The hell’s got you so chipper, Catherine? You thinkin bout the Archbishop again?” One of her knights taunted, shoving her shoulder. Catherine wheeled around, feigning a punch to his stomach. The knight, a scrawny twig of an archer with bright red hair, flinched and Catherine pulled her fist back. 

“Watch it, Fredrique. I won’t hesitate to cut your ass down for blasphemy. But no, I was actually thinking about my dinner date with your girlfriend next week. Got any recommendations?” Catherine mocked, actually punching him in the arm. Fredrique rubbed the sore limb and laughed.

“Oh go to hell, Catherine.” 

“I spent the past week downwind from your sweaty unwashed ass, hell has nothing new to throw at me.” Catherine slapped him on the shoulder and pulled him into a hug from the side. 

“Seriously Catherine, what’s got you so chummy?” he asked, bow slung over his shoulders. 

“Can’t a girl just be happy to be home?” 

“Fine, you dick, don’t wanna tell me? I’ll back off.” he said with a wide grin. “I’m just glad to see you actually with a smile after your grouchy ass was all mopey these past few weeks. That horse must have stomped your head as well as your leg, took out the only parts of your brain with any personality.”

“Oh bite me.” Catherine said, waving him off as they finally crossed onto the grounds of the academy, the office building clearly visible. 

“No thanks, I like living.” Fredrique mumbled back. 

“Well, why don’t you all go live it up then. Grab some chow and meet back here at 6. I’ll give report to the Archbishop and then we can go hit the tavern in town. Drinks are on me!” Catherine declared. Her men gave her a cheer and wandered off to the dining hall. “You dumbasses.” she muttered to herself as she went to fulfill her report. 

Catherine knocked on the heavy door just off to the side from the Audience Chamber, and she heard Lady Rhea’s voice call from the other side telling her to enter in that same soft voice that always made Catherine’s heart beat faster. She stepped inside, seeing Lady Rhea at her desk with a quill in hand. The office was large compared to the others in the administrative building of the Monastery, and rather grand alongside that. The Archbishop looked up and gave that same warm smile she’d given her every day, and Catherine couldn’t help but smile back as she bowed. 

“Good evening, Lady Rhea. I came to give you the report on my team’s actions in south-eastern Faergus.” Catherine said before standing from her bow. Lady Rhea stood and walked over to Catherine, laying her hand on the knight’s shoulder. The Knight felt her heart speed up at the touch, and prayed that Rhea didn’t notice. 

“Well, come sit for a moment and give me your report then, Sir Catherine. I’m sure you had quite the long journey home.” The knight didn’t hesitate to do as she was told, her pulse pounding at how close she was to the woman of her dreams. She had loved Lady Rhea from the first moment she’d seen her, all those years ago. 

She’d been out on what was meant to be her final mission as a student of the Academy, when her team had come under fire from a pack of wild bandits. In the commotion she had been knocked unconscious, and when she woke there was Rhea, hands engulfed in magic as she healed the many wounds on Catherine’s bloodied body. It turned out she had helped drag the Knight-to-be from the flames, and had been nursing her back to health for days at that point. Ever since that day she had been a devout servant to the Archbishop, and every little touch or contact with her made her heart race faster than the time before. 

But, she knew the Archbishop was bound by her duty to remain unwed, and while Catherine may be open to ‘friendly’ situations with other women, her attraction to Rhea was beyond physical. She wanted to only serve the woman however she may do that, save for her one rule. 

No matter what, Catherine would never die for Rhea. 

She sat down at the chair in front of the Archbishop’s desk, her heart starting to ache as the woman’s touch left her. Lady Rhea sat in her chair and Catherine gave her report, describing the sell-swords organization and the lords involved, the conflicts, where they occurred, how many casualties, and other various details. Finally, Rhea finished writing the report and spoke up. 

“Thank you, Sir Catherine. Your work has been invaluable these past few months. I’m glad to see that rather terrible mistake of yours a few weeks ago, receiving such a damaging injury at the hands of Lord Lonato didn’t stop you from being a productive and responsible leader for my Knights.” Rhea said, her hand touching Catherine’s cheek and giving her that same thumping heartbeat. 

“Of course, Lady Rhea. I’m always happy to serve as a blade to the Goddess.” The knight said, bowing her head. 

“I know you are dear, you’ve made that abundantly clear. Now, would you be willing to do me one small favor before you go and enjoy the rest of your evening?” Rhea asked. Catherine nodded without question. “Wonderful! Go track down Professor Eisner, and inform her that I will be needing to see her and her head-of-house tomorrow afternoon. I need to discuss their plans for the Rite later this month. Seteth has been rather ornery as of late complaining that they seem to be doing quite little actual investigation.” Catherine nodded her head and left quickly. 

Catherine was rather lost in her thoughts as she searched the grounds for Byleth, eventually finding the woman in her classroom hunched over the table reading a book on what appeared to be axe combat. 

“Professor Eisner.” Catherine said as she stepped inside the room. Byleth looked up and, once seeing it was Catherine, set the book down. Her voice had sounded different for some reason. Of course she hadn’t seen the woman in a week. Perhaps Byleth was simply mistaken. “Lady Rhea sent me to inform you that she’s hoping to see you and your head of house tomorrow afternoon to discuss plans for the Rite of Return.” Catherine told her. Byleth nodded and wrote a note on a piece of parchment nearby. 

“Thank you Sir Catherine. I’ll ensure Edelgard and myself are there.” Byleth said. Catherine shook her head before chuckling a bit, her eyes focusing back in on the professor. 

“Awe, Byleth, Don’t go getting too formal on me again.” The knight said, walking forward and sitting on the edge of the desk. “How’ve you been since I left? Bored out of your mind, I’m sure.” She asked, her same cocksure grin present on her face. Byleth leaned back in her chair, resting her arms behind her head and resting her boots on the table. 

“Fine enough. The students have been training intensely this past week in preparation for their next mission, so I’ve been rather bogged down with their academic work.” Byleth said. Catherine laughed and knocked the professors boots back off of the table. 

“Now now, Byleth. Set a good example for the students. Can’t start teaching them it’s OK to put your feet on the table. Hanneman will have a damned heart attack if he sees that in the dining room.” Catherine teased. Byleth rolled her eyes. “But it’s good to hear you’re keeping them on their toes. Most of the professors seem a bit lax on physical training in favor of academics and magic.” 

“I try to keep a fair balance. The students have a day-on day-off schedule. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are for academics and magic, while Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday are for physical education.” Byleth explained. 

“Well, sounds like I got here just in time then. Is the invitation still open to join your class for some training?” Catherine asked, her eyes dropping a little as she bit her lip. “Or would you prefer to keep our training more…’one on one’?” 

“You’re more than welcomed to join the class for exercises tomorrow, Catherine. But I do ask that you keep discussions about “last week” away from my students.” Byleth said bluntly. Catherine chuckled. 

“You think so low of me that I’d boast about something like that to a bunch of students? I am offended! I do have some class you…” Her defense was cut off by the ringing of the bell indications another hour passed. Catherine listened and heard 7 bells, her eyes going wide. She was over an hour late to meet with her team. “Shit, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow Byleth!” Catherine yelled, running out the door. 

Byleth stared at the still-ajar door for a moment before walking over and closing. She returned to her desk and to her work. 

_“You certainly have strange tastes, but at least that’s keeping this a bit interesting.” _Sothis muttered boredly.__

__“She’s a fine ally. She proved herself as much in Faergus,” Byleth muttered under her breath._ _

___“Oh certainly, but those were not the tastes I was referring to. Between her and the Hresvelg you just have an interesting record with women.” _Sothis said, giggling to herself as she felt Byleth’s mind pique with confusion.__ _ _

____“What do you mean, ‘between her and the Hresvelg?” Byleth asked. Sothis only began to laugh harder._ _ _ _

_____“Oh nothing, you’ll understand later. Or at least hopefully you will. Speaking of which, the empress has been rather distant these past few days, hasn’t she?” ____ _ _ _

______“She is likely just tired from the increased workload of the past weeks training. All of the students are.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_______“True, but all of the students didn’t storm off from you in a huff after you asked about their mother’s opinions on polyamory.” _The goddess pointed out.__ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“She did not “storm off in a huff”, she simply had an appointment.” Byleth said, and Sothis could swear the woman had some defensiveness in her voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________“Then why hasn’t she spoken more than a few words at a time to you since then?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“It’s not like we’re exactly talkative in our day to day work. She is no different than her usual.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Maybe her usual from a month and a half ago, but she’s acting very different from how she was the past few weeks, wouldn’t you agree?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Yes, but again, this past week we increased our workload so it’s likely just the increased stress.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________“Would you please quit being so damned stubborn! Is it really smart to argue with the time-bending deity that has saved your sorry behind twice now?” _Sothis lamented. Byleth sighed deeply, she did have a point.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Three times.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________”What?” _Sothis asked, confused.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“You’ve saved me three times now. Once, from the bandit in the woods, the second time from the same bandit in the ravine, and the third time is tonight. For you seemed absolutely determined to save me from the horror of getting any of my work done.” Sothis chuckled, bitterly to be sure but she did chuckle. Her eyes settled back onto the blue haired nuisance of a woman and let her glare do all the work. After a few minutes, Byleth shook her head and raised her hands in defeat. “Ok, fine. I’ll ask her over tea. the day after tomorrow, will that suffice?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“It will do. I suppose.” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Fantastic. Now can I please return to my work?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Fine, go back to your papers, you bore.” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Catherine walked up to the Black Eagle’s training grounds a bit after dawn that next morning, her armor and weapon left behind in favor of her usual cream colored pants and a loose tank top over her bra. There, already running laps, were the Black Eagles, with Byleth jogging alongside the students as she barked orders to pick up the pace. Catherine took a second to appreciate the professor’s backside bouncing in her shorts and jersey, both of which matched those worn by the students, clearly in the color of the flag of the Black Eagles, with a large eagle emblazoned across the back. She finished appreciating the view and began walking down to meet the rest of the class._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Byleth saw her coming down the small hill, and told the students to keep running as she jogged off of the path they had been following, which seemed to have been carved into the grass by little more than their repeated running. She came over to Catherine, and the knight had to look away, pretending to be rather interested in a passing bird for fear of staring at the professor's chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Good morning, Catherine. I see you finally made it.” Byleth wiped some sweat from her brow as she greeted the blonde woman._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Yup, seems I’m a bit late though.” Catherine said, crossing her arms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well then move it. Come on and join the warm up.” Byleth said jogging back to the trail and jumping back in with the class. Catherine smiled to herself as she joined into the mass of jogging students._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________She found her pace with the people around her and ended up situated between two students. One of them was that Berglieze kid with the spiky blue hair. Caspar! That was his name. The other was the Hresvelg heir. She was wearing a slightly different outfit, with a long red undershirt and red tights underneath her shorts, as well as those same gloves Catherine always saw on her. The knight tried to make conversation as the laps ticked by._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“So, what are y’all studying? Bows? Magic? Mounted combat?” She asked, panting a bit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I’m specializing in axe combat and brawling!” Caspar said, boldly pumping his fist in the air._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“And what about you?” Catherine asked, looking over to Edelgard._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Much like Caspar, I’m an axe fighter.” the Hresvelg said, stoically. Catherine thought her face seemed like a rather good impression of the professor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Oh, Edelgard’s also specializing in aerial combat.” Caspar said, laughing between gasps for air. “She has been trying to learn to stay on a wyvern for weeks! Last week, she got thrown off so hard she..”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Shut up, Caspar.” Edelgard ordered, picking up her pace and jogging ahead. Catherine looked over to the boy who just shrugged._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“She was like that with Professor Eisner too. I think she just doesn’t like new people.” Caspar whispered as they continued jogging. After a few more laps, Byleth whistled and signaled for everyone to rally in a circle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Allright. Everyone pair off and start sparing. We’ll do ten minutes, and then rotate partners. Training weapons are available on the carts over in the corner.” Byleth said the last piece to Catherine, pointing to the cart of wooden weapons off to one side. The knight nodded and followed the class over to retrieve a pair of wooden training gauntlets, not having used them since she was in the academy herself. The Brigian woman, Petra, walked up holding a wooden training sword and waving at her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Hello, Sir Catherine! Would you like to be training with me first?” she asked, grinning. Catherine shrugged._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Why not? Let's go.” Catherine said. The two walked over to an unoccupied segment of field and got into their ready stances. Byleth whistled again a few minutes later and Petra leapt forward, slashing her blade at Catherine’s knee, and the knight dropped down, blocking the blade with one gauntlet while aiming the other for the girl’s stomach. She dodged out of the way and aimed another swipe for Catherine’s shoulder, but the knight tumbled forward out of the way before jumping up off the ground and turning, her fist swinging around with her as she connected with the girls forearm, knocking the sword out of her hands. Catherine chuckled and dropped her fists._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Good job, kid, you really..” The girl kneed her in the stomach, knocking the air from her lungs before she could finish her sentence. She heard a chuckle from the group besides them, seeing a young man with greenish-black hair and a shit eating grin on his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Sparring goes until the whistle, weapons or not.” Hubert said, dropping out of the way of Caspar’s training axe. Catherine shook her head and stood up from her position leaning over with her hands on her knees. That woman kicked like a mule._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Would’ve been...nice to be told...that up front…” Catherine said between gasps for air._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I had assuming you knew!” Petra said, a little bit pleased with herself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Fine, then, rally up princess.” Catherine said, pulling her fists up and throwing a jab at the girl, who dodged out of the way easily and swept her leg out from underneath her. Catherine hit the ground with a thud, and sighed as she stared at the sky. Why did she get the strange feeling she had been hustled?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________After a while, Catherine seemed to be able to keep up pretty well with Petra, and the two traded blow for blow pretty evenly. By the time Catherine was actually starting to come out on top however, Byleth whistled for the groups to rotate._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Thank you for a wonderful sparring, Sir Catherine!” Petra said. “I am looking forward to working with you again!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“You too Petra, and it’s Catherine, just Catherine.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“OK! Thank you for a wonderful sparring Just Catherine!” Petra said walking away. Catherine groaned and shook her head. Caspar walked up, axe in hand, and grinned._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Hey, Thunder Catherine! Ready to meet your match?” He asked, hefting his axe proudly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Hell yeah I am! Why, you hiding someone behind your back?” Catherine asked, grinning as the guys smirk visibly dropped._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“No! I mean me!” Caspar said readying his weapon. Byleth whistled again and Caspar charged, screaming at the top of his lungs. Catherine stepped aside and kicked his feet out from under him, sending him to the ground._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________He got up and charged again, and she ducked his swing, punching him in the gut, sending him to the ground again. He stood again, running at her and swinging for her legs. She jumped the blade and kicked his own legs out from under him, again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________This repeated over a dozen times, he’d charge and scream, she’d knock him down, he’d get back up. After nearly twenty times, Catherine panted heavily as she looked at the kid slowly getting up off the ground._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Man….what in the hell is wrong with you...this is ridiculous.” She asked between pants._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Come on! I got you on the ropes and you know it!” Caspar said, equally winded. Catherine sighed and shook her head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Caspar, just, for the love of the Goddess try not screaming, OK? Just try that.” Caspar paused for a moment, and finally nodded, charging at her again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________She blocked his strike, but smiled. “There! See? When you don’t broadcast exactly where you are by screaming, you actually have the energy to swing faster than molasses.” Catherine shoved his axe back and punched him in the arm, and the two began actual sincere sparing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________The rest of the morning went about like that, the only two Catherine never ended up sparing with were Edelgard and Ashe. Catherine was rather happy about the last one however. She still wasn’t quite sure how or if she should even talk to Ashe. She still hadn’t asked Lady Rhea about what Lonato had meant by what he’d said, but she thought she should. For Ashe’s sake if not her own._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________After several long hours, the day’s sparring was done. Right about noon, Byleth whistled to get everyone’s attention, and told them to go clean up and call it a day. Byleth also called Edelgard and Catherine to stay._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________The two walked over and Byleth addressed Edelgard first._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“The Archbishop wishes to speak with us in a little bit, clean up and meet me at the audience chamber, understood?” Edelgard nodded. “Good. You’re free to go.” Edelgard nodded again and left. Catherine grinned as Byleth turned to her. “How’d you enjoy your first session with the class?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Oh it was wonderful. I haven’t trained this hard since my first year in the knights. You’ve got some first class students, Professor.” Catherine said the last word teasingly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well, I’m glad. It seems many of my students enjoyed having a slightly more experienced opponent that wasn’t myself. You’re welcome to join us tuesday as well.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“It’d be my pleasure.” Catherine said, giving a wink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to clean up.” Catherine turned to leave, but was stopped when Byleth grabbed her arm. “Yes?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I actually have need of you later this evening. My desk is rather heavy, I’d appreciate your help in moving it. Consider it your way of making up for being late.” Byleth said. Catherine couldn’t quite tell if she was supposed to be reading as much into that request as she was. The professor’s blank tone made her rather hard to flirt with, but she figured it was worth the risk._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I’d be happy to. How about tonight after dinner?” Catherine asked cheekily._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Does that imply you’ll be dining with the Eagles tonight then?” The Professor quirked her brow, and Catherine pondered for a moment before shrugging._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“To hell with it, why not?” She said, waving as she backed away. “See you tonight, Byleth.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Edelgard rolled her eyes as she walked away from the training field and towards her dorm. That was absolutely ridiculous. Not only does she sleep with that woman in a public training ground, but then drags her along to one of their training sessions. The Professor had clearly lost whatever semblance of sense Edelgard had managed to knock into her skull over the past few weeks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________The heiress had been unable to purge that damned scene from her mind in the days since she’d walked in on those two. It bounced around her mind like a feral cat trying to escape a trash bin. She could barely even look at the professor anymore without her face getting hot, with rage of course._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Lady Edelgard.” Hubert said, appearing from around the corner of the dormitory._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Ah! Hubert, you startled me.” Edelgard said, having been lost in her thoughts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I can see that rather plainly, Lady Edelgard. Are you feeling well?” Hubert asked, his own type of concern edging into his voice. Edelgard looked at him, confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Of course, I’m fine. Whatever would make you think otherwise?” Edelgard asked, irritation evident._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well, to begin, I was able to sneak up on you. Also, you’ve been visibly irritated for several days now. Is there something that needs addressing?” Hubert asked, wondering if someone needed disposing of._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“It’s nothing, Hubert.” Edelgard said as she passed him, going up the stairs towards the upper floor of the dormitory. He followed close behind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“You understand that by saying ‘it is nothing’, you are implying there is in fact an ‘it’ to be referred to, yes? So your attempts at bypassing my question gave me your answer without even intending to.” Edelgard groaned and paused on a middle step, looking up and down to see that no one was there. She pulled Hubert into her room, closing the door and rubbing her temples. “Do you intend to tell me what is troubling you, Lady Edelgard?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Yes, just give me a moment. I don’t exactly enjoy thinking about this.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Does it involve Professor Eisner?” Hubert asked. The red rush to Edelgard's face gave him all the answers he needed. “What has that woman done now? May I finally dispose of her?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“No, you may not. As much as that does sound preferable she may still prove useful. Besides, it would be too suspicious.” Edelgard said, grumbling the latter two sentences._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well what did she do then?” Hubert asked, quite curious. He had noticed Lady Edelgard growing rather close with the Professor the past several weeks, to the point he had not taken tea with her for nearly a month, so he was interested to find what could aggravate her so quickly and yet leave her still wanting the woman alive._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Do you remember last week? When I refrained from joining the rest of the class for dinner?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I do. You said you had caught ill and needed the night to rest when I asked why the next morning.” Hubert said, crossing his arms. “Wait, did that damned woman attempt to poison you on your own birthday?” Hubert asked, rage seeping into his voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“No, Hubert. It’s nothing like that. I was certainly sick, but perhaps ill was an exaggeration.” Edelgard admitted. “When I took my tea with the professor, she gave me a bottle of Bergamot oil as a present.” Hubert looked at her, confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“And that is why you’re angry with her? While I’ll admit it’s a rather crude present to give someone of your stature...”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“No, just let me explain. We continued our conversation after that and...I began talking about my family, about my mother. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until the professor asked me a question about how my mother had felt about the way she and my father lived, and I realized….I didn’t know the answer.” Edelgard sat on the edge of her bed and looked down at the floorboards, worn smooth by years of footsteps. “And I never will.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I see…” Hubert said, solemnly. Edelgard’s mother had always been a sore spot for the woman, and Hubert wouldn’t admit how curious he was that she’d begun talking about her with the Professor without even realizing it. Could….no. It couldn’t be. “So that is why you’re upset at her? She tore open a wound she wasn’t aware of?” She shook her head no._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“No, it isn’t that, the reason I mention it is because after she asked, I made an excuse to leave about missing an appointment at the infirmary, and ran off. Later that night I went to find her and apologize. She wasn’t in her room, or in the classroom.” Edelgard’s face was creeping back towards the red shade._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well, was she at the training grounds? She doesn’t frequently go much anywhere else.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“My thoughts exactly. And she was. I went to the training arena and heard quite a commotion behind the doors, so I didn’t even think to hesitate. I opened the door and, we’ll…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well?” Hubert asked, beyond curious of what could make Lady Edelgard so hesitant._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I caught the professor with Catherine’s head between her legs.” Edelgard said, flopping back into the bed and obscuring much of her form in the heavy down comforter. Hubert was quiet for a moment, and chose his words carefully._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“And...that’s why you’re upset with her?” Hubert asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Yes!” Edelgard replied, as if it were such an obvious answer. Hubert sighed and rubbed his chin, arms crossed in front of him. This presented a problem. Not the professor’s actions, clearly, but the fact that they seemed to bother Lady Edelgard so readily. Was there something...heavens no. There couldn’t possibly be._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Lady Edelgard, while that conduct is rather abominable, it’s not something that comes as too surprising given the professor’s conduct. Why is this bothering you so?” The red that creeped into her highness’s face gave Hubert all the answers he needed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I, I am just concerned, that is all.” Edelgard said, rushing for an answer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Concerned that…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I’m concerned that her getting closer to a Knight of Seiros, especially one so devoted as Catherine, may throw a brick in the way of attempts to recruit the professor in our fight against the Church.” Edelgard said, a bit more assured. Hubert however was well versed in reading her highness, and could see she had been as much trying to convince herself as him. However he decided better than to address it. Perhaps with any luck, if it was left alone, whatever it was that was causing her irritation at the situation in actuality would simply fade away. He certainly hoped so._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well, that does present some rather interesting roadblocks. However I would say no to put too much stock into it. From what I have heard, Sir Catherine is known for her occasional dalliance with her allies.” Hubert said, readying to leave. “I do hope the shock of all that leaves you quickly, Lady Edelgard. It can’t be too long before others notice your change in demeanor, as I have.” He opened the door, turning and bowing to her highness. “ I bid you a good day, Lady Edelgard. Alert me if there is anything you need.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Thank you, Hubert. I shall, and a good day to you as well.” Edelgard said. The door latched shut and she sighed to herself, collapsing onto her bed again as she looked up at the ceiling. Perhaps she was overreacting. But she couldn’t make herself understand why._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________She sighed again, remembering her appointment with the Archbishop in a short while and that she’d have to leave the comfortable bed beneath her. She stood and walked to the bathing room, grabbing a bundle of clothes and readying to clean the muck of the day off of her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________After their meeting with the Archbishop, Byleth and Edelgard walked toward the dining hall. Their reassurance to the Archbishop that they’d been properly investigating and preparing for the events to come took a while longer than had originally been expected, and they were readying to serve dinner. All of the Eagles were gathered around the table, and every single one of them was looking at Catherine._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Come on, Catherine! You can’t really expect us to believe that.” Leonie said, staring at the woman._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“There’s no way on earth you took on twenty bandits at once.” Ferdinand echoed, arms crossed and head shaking in disbelief._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well, you can ask one of my men. But let me finish the story you brats. So there I am, in the middle of some little bandit squat on the outskirts of the territory of house Frauldarious, half my men are unconscious and the other half are chasing some deserters into the woods, and that leaves me stuck with the entire rest of the camp all on my own. Now, a few of them were stupid and tried to charge me one on one while their boys were still getting their heads in order, so I was able to thin the heard a bit before the real melee happened, but right as i chopped one big bearded bastards head off, I hear one of them scream ‘charge the bitch’ at the top of his lungs, and they’re all on me at once. I felt like the only virgin in a whore house. So I end up seeing there's two scraggly archers holding some short swords, and I figure they probably don’t know how to use them. Probably just pulled them off of one of their buddies corpses, right? Well, I charge right at them, screaming at the top of my lungs, and immediately they drop their blades and run. So now that I have a gap in their wall, I take advantage and jump through it, turn around and use Thunderbrand’s special attack to slice down five of the bastards at once.” Catherine gestured to the blade, which glowed faintly red on her back. Ashe was looking at the woman, and Byleth couldn’t quite read what was going on behind the somber student’s eyes. It looked almost like jealousy, or perhaps longing? “So I jump out of the way of one guys arrow, and just smash another guy head in with the handle of old Thunderbrand. Dude goes down and his buddies are shaking in their boots. I just keep coming at them, and by the time one guy thinks to cut shit and run, he’s the last one standing and I am already on him. My boys come back from the woods, and see then entire camp was done for, and I swear that was the first and only time Fredrique didn’t give me shit on the walk back from a mission.” Catherine smiled at Byleth as the professor took her seat at the head of the table and Edelgard took her usual spot beside the professor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“How’d the meeting go?” Ashe asked, looking away from Catherine._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well enough. Lord Seteth has finally come to terms with the fact we are in fact somewhat competent, and are investigating and preparing for the Rite of Rebirth properly.” Edelgard said. Those were the first words she had said since they’d left the audience chamber, nearly 15 minutes prior._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________“There you go, now you’re starting to actually pay attention.” _Sothis praised, however sarcastically from the back of Byleth’s mind. The servers started bringing out the plates from the main kitchen, and the class began devouring them.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine though dining with the Eagles was, all-in-all, pretty pleasant. She told a few more stories about her adventures, with only a bit of embellishment on her part. After the meal was over and as the students filtered out of the dining room, Catherine stood to leave._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Hey, Catherine, are you gonna be joining us next session too?” Caspar asked, a bright grin on his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I should be, as long as I don’t go pissing off your professor.” Catherine said, earning a hearty laugh from Caspar and a few scattered chuckles from the likes of Linhardt and Ferdinand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“If you managed to actually make the professor angry, i’d pay to see it.” Ferdinand piped in. “I don’t think I've ever seen Professor Eisner’s face change expression in all these months.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“That’s not true, Ferdinand.” Hubert said, a smirk on his face. “She has a wide range of emotions, she has stoic, non-expressive, aloof, passionless, apathetic, the list goes on and on.” That managed to get the table erupting, even drawing a restrained giggle from Edelgard._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Heh, I didn’t know Vestras were capable of humor. Glad to see you can relax a little, Hubert.” Catherine said, patting the young man on the shoulder turning his smirk into a scowl. That drew even stronger laughs from the table as Catherine walked out of the hall._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh, you sure have her fooled Hubie.” Dorothea said, giggling. Hubert rolled his eyes and stood to drop off his dishes. Byleth did the same soon after, leaving the dining hall. She walked to her classroom and saw the lights already lit from the windows. She opened the door to see Catherine, leaned back in the chair behind Byleth’s desk, grinning smugly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“So, where do you want to move the desk?” Catherine asked, her smirk nearly splitting her face. Byleth closed the door behind her, locking it with one hand and walking towards the knight. She shoved the desk aside, as if it were made of nothing but plywood, and straddled Catherine’s lap as she remained, slightly wide eyed, in the chair. Byleth grabbed her by her collar and pulled the woman into a kiss._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Catherine had been reading into the professor’s request exactly as much as she was meant to._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________The next morning, Byleth crawled out of bed, bright and early. She walked to the public bathing hall, which was tucked away in the same building as the sauna, and bathed quickly to help sooth her aching muscles. Between the training the day before, and her more rigorous activities after dinner, her body was sore and bruised._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Once she had cleaned herself off, she dressed in her usual Sunday attire, her same tunic and pants but without her armor. There was however one difference._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She’d gone so far as to have grabbed a pair of plain black leather boots from one of the market stalls between training and her meeting with the archbishop yesterday. She had been feeling rather awkward, stomping around in heavy steel boots only to go sit and drink tea._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________________“Hmmmm, new shoes? My oh my you really are dressing to the nines. Nice to see you putting a bit of effort into your appearance for once. Maybe next you can try taming that mess of a head of hair you have.” _Sothis said, appearing before Byleth as the professor finished sliding the boots on.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“I’m simply trying to make sure my armored boots last longer by not wearing them when they aren’t necessary.” Byleth retorted, looking at herself in the mirror and thinking she looked rather good._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________“Mhmmmm, and why had you not thought to do that before?” _Sothis asked,__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“It simply wasn’t necessary. I spent much less time outside of combat.” Byleth shot back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________“Hmmmmmm, perhaps.” _Sothis giggled to herself. This woman was utterly useless.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Byleth rolled her eyes and sat at the desk in her room, looking at the small, barely legible list of lecture topics she had been continually adding to over the weeks, trying to decide what to prepare for tomorrow. She settled on stealth combat, and began preparing some notes. After a while she began digging through the stacks of papers looking for Bernadetta’s essay on the topic. She dug and dug and dug, and finally found it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________It was right around that time that she heard the bell toll 3 pm. Byleth looked up from her notes, and saw the mid-afternoon sun. That was odd, Edelgard had always been there by at the latest noon to go for tea. She put down the stack of paper she’d been rifling through, and felt a strange ache in the pit of her stomach._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“Ok...maybe something is going on.” Byleth said, more to herself than to Sothis but the goddess heard it nonetheless._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________________“Finally, you stubborn ass. I’ve been waiting for you to get it through your head.” _Sothis was clearly rather pleased with herself.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Well, fine, now what?” Byleth asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________________________“Hmmmmm, well why don’t you try going to her? Perhaps she was tired of being the one to come to you. Or she could think she was imposing on you? Try grabbing a pot of tea and going to see if she wants some.” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Do you think that will work?” Byleth asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________________“Well, I'm not omniscient, but you know what is the great thing about this situation?” _Sothis asked.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“What?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________________________“If it doesn’t work, I can simply turn back time!” _Sothis yelled into Byleth’s mind, giving her a headache.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Fine, I’ll go get a pot of tea.” Byleth muttered, storming out her door. This child in her mind was going to be the death of her one day, she could swear it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________She went to the kitchen, and walked to one of the men standing in the kitchen behind the counter. It was an older man, and Byleth recognized him as the same cook she’d been grabbing tea from for nearly a month now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Good afternoon, Nikita. Can I get the usual?” Byleth requested, lost in her own thoughts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Morning, professor. Will do. Just the tea or will you be needing sweets?” He asked, walking over to the sink and filling a kettle before placing it on the stove._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Raspberry tarts if you have them.” Byleth said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the counter as she waited. Those seemed to be Edelgard’s favorite, at the very least they were the ones that always went the quickest when they took their tea together. As she stood there, hunched over, a familiar clicking of heels grew closer from behind her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Well, hello Professor. Waiting for something?” Manuela asked, walking to Byleth’s side, resting her backside against the counter and crossing her arms. “Or have you just taken to bending over random countertops as a new form of flirting?” Manuela’s grin grew devilish, and Byleth couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She stood and mirrored Mauela’s pose._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Just waiting for a pot of tea.” Byleth said. Manuela sniffed the air and smiled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Ah, a refill for you and miss Hresvelg?” Manuela asked, recognizing the scent of fresh Bergamot. It wasn’t to her taste, but it was well known that the empress-to-be always took Bergamot on Sundays. If what Dorothea had been telling her was true, the professor had become a regular attendee of her Sunday tea as well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Not a refill, first pot of the day.” Nikita said, a knowing smile on his face as he looked over at the buxom professor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Oh, why such a late start?” Manuela asked, praying for something juicy to discuss at her next session with Dorothea._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Your guess is as good as mine.” Byleth shrugged._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Oh? Some trouble between you and the princess?” Manuela pried._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Not sure. She has seemed distant this past week, and she ended up leaving our meeting last week to try to make it to her appointment with you. Sorry about that by the way.” Byleth said. Maneula looked at her, confusion evident on her face even to Byleth. “Manuela?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Edelgard didn’t have an appointment with me last Sunday. I haven’t seen the girl at all this year. I’ve been meaning to speak to her about that.” Byleth furrowed her brow, and Manuela could swear that was the first expression she’d ever seen the professor make._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“That....is rather concerning than.” Byleth said. Nikita sat a small box of pastries and a pot of tea in front of the professors._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Saucers and cups’r in the box Professor. Have a happy Sunday.” He said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Thank you, and you as well.” Byleth said, grabbing the two things and walking off to the dorms. Manuela followed the professor with her eyes, and smiled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“She really does have a nice ass.” Manuela mumbled to herself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Can i help you ma’am?” Nikita asked, coldly. Manuela laughed awkwardly and shook her head, muttering a weak “no, but thank you” as she left._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________Edelgard heard a heavy knock on the door to her room, and moved from her desk to answer it. She took a quick moment to cover the rather messy sketchbook she had been focused on, and opened the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Can I help...oh, hello professor.” Edelgard's expression started as bored, and when she saw the professor standing there, tea pot in hand, she looked a bit embarrassed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Care to join me for tea?” Byleth asked, holding out the teapot on two of her fingers. Edelgard sighed and crossed her arms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“I suppose.” She said, seeing as she wasn’t sure she’d be able to make up a good enough excuse to say no. Byleth handed her the box, which she took politely and the two walked down to their usual spot. Byleth grabbed one chair and pulled it out, gesturing for Edelgard to take it. She did so, and set the box on the table. Byleth set the teapot down and took a seat across from her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“The cups and saucers are..”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“In the box, yes I know.” Edelgard said, cutting Byleth off as she opened the box. She went quiet as she saw the small pile of red tarts next to the drinkware. “Oh...you got…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Raspberry.” Byleth said, finally being the one who got to cut someone else off for once. “I figured from the way they disappear when we have our tea, they must be a favorite.” Byleth said, reaching over and grabbing the cups and tiny plates. She was beyond caring if she was being unmannerly by reaching across the table. She set the dishes down and began pouring out two cups of tea, sliding one to her student._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“That’s very kind of you, professor.” Edelgard mumbled, looking at her tea and refusing to meet Byleth’s eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“You sound surprised by that.” Byleth remarked, taking a sip of her tea, clutching the mug in her hand like she had the first time they’d taken their tea together. She was shocked when she heard no comment from the heiress about her manners._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just meant I didn’t realize you were paying that much attention.” Edelgard said tersely, taking a sip from her own cup._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“What do I always say in lecture?” Byleth asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table, again no comment from the princess. Edelgard just sighed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Read every situation as if your life may depend on its smallest detail, because many times it will.” Edelgard muttered. Byleth nodded, she set her cup onto the table, right beside the saucer however not on top of it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Exactly.” Byleth said. The heiress chewed her cheek for a moment and finally snapped._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Are you really so uncultured that after all this time you’ve forgotten how to use your damned saucer?!” The Hresvelg asked, gesturing at Byleth’s cup as she looked up from her own and stared the professor down. Byleth looked right back, blue eyes meeting lilac and holding solid. Byleth was almost certain that was the first time she’d seen Edelgard’s eyes directly in a whole week. The professor let out a quick burst of air from her nose that almost sounded like a chuckle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Perhaps, however my lack of ‘culture’ aside, I'm not an idiot.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“That’s yet to be seen.” Edelgard shot back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Edelgard, why have you been avoiding me?” Byleth asked_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“I….”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Don’t deny it. I haven’t heard more than a sentence at a time from you in a week, you have refused to hold eye contact, and you ignored two ‘mannerly’ failures that a week ago would’ve earned me at the very least a comment. You ran off from last week's tea for an appointment that didn’t exist, and then this? Something is bothering you.” Byleth said plainly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________Edelgard sat back in her chair, crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap as she pondered how to respond. The Professor just sat there, looking at her with that same piercing gaze as she drank her tea. It was so strange to see someone looking at her who was both plainly able to read her but impossible to be read herself. She was used to prying nobles who could not proclaim their ulterior motives louder if they wrote them across their face, and yet Byleth seemed to either have none or be very good at hiding them. Edelgard wasn’t sure which was scarier. She sighed and figured there was no point in lying._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“I saw you and Catherine last week, in the arena.” Edelgard said, looking at the Professor over the rim of her tea cup as she took a sip. Byleth looked at her for a moment and shrugged making a small ‘hm’ sound in the back of her throat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“ Well, that would explain a bit of it.. My apologies that what you saw bothered you so much. I do hope you knowing that I’m a lesbian doesn’t hurt your view of me too terribly. ” Byleth gestured with her cup as she apologized. She took another drink and sighed, thinking over her words carefully. “If you’d like to discontinue our tea sessions from this point on, I’d fully respect that. But I’d appreciate actually being informed of that, as opposed to simply being ignored and avoided.” Byleth said, setting her cup on the saucer and pouring another. Edelgard was shocked by the lack of reaction, and blushed a bit, embarresed at the comments about not wanting to take tea with her for being a lesbian._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“No, professor, it’s nothing to do with who you were...involved with, I didn’t mean to imply any sort of it was just a matter of….are you really just so casual about hearing that?” Edelgard asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Why would I not be?” Byleth asked. The sincerity of the question shocked Edelgard._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“I walked in on you and Catherine in the middle of you making love, in a public training ground!? Does that not seem like a rather personal affair? A violation of privacy?” Edelgard asked, not understanding how the Professor could be so cavalier._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Edelgard, that was not ‘making love’.” The princess looked even more confused, as if Byleth had begun speaking Dagdan. “Perhaps it’s simply just a difference in how we were both raised. It doesn’t bother me because what that was was not loving, or even very personal. Yes, we had sex, and it’s true a more private location may have been better, but the reason I’m not bothered is that all that was was Catherine and I...‘releasing steam’ for lack of better term. Knights,mercenaries, even officers, lead lives that don’t give much space for romance. As such, casual affairs such as that aren’t exactly uncommon. Walking in on them is also not uncommon. I had my fair share of accidental interruptions of my comrades when I traveled with the Brigade. But don’t worry about my ‘privacy’. There’s less and less of that the more time you spend with a unit.” Byleth set her cup down. “But, that doesn’t answer the other part of my question.” She said, pouring Edelgard a second cup._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Which is?” Edelgard asked, nodding in thanks as she took another sip._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Why did you run off last week? Manuela said she hasn’t had an appointment with you at all year so far.” Byleth said, not accusatory, but concerned._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“I…” Edelgard went quiet, but a very different type of quiet to how she had been before._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Was it something I did?” Byleth asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“No...it just...well, it may be somewhat, I guess?” Edelgard floundered for her words. “I just...my mother is a sore topic of conversation for me, and last week I ended up getting so wrapped up in our conversation that I didn’t even realize I'd been talking about her. Then when you asked about her opinion on life in the empire, I realized….I don’t know. I never got to know how she felt about her life. I don’t know much of anything about her, and truth be told I never will.” Edelgard said, looking at the tea in her cup as her eyes felt that familiar sting. She rubbed her cheek, and Byleth could just sit there._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________________________“Don’t just sit there! Do something you idiot! ” _Sothis chided.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Byleth scooted her chair closer, resting a hand on Edelgard's shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated as she tried to think of what to say._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“I...I never really knew my mom either. Jeralt always told me she died in combat a while after I was born. I don’t know if that’s true, but she was dead by the time I was old enough to ask.” Byleth said, weakly praying that was at least somewhat helpful. “I’m sorry my question dug at an old wound.” Byleth finished. Edelgard was silent, breathing as calmly as she could, her cheeks slick._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________They stayed there for a minute, Edelgard just crying as Byleth tried her best to support her while having no idea what she was doing or what her student was going through. After a long while, Edelgard finally took a deep breath, coughed a bit and then began speaking._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“I….thank you professor.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“No thanks necessary, Edelgard.” Byleth said, patting her shoulder as she scooted her chair away and back to its original place. After a while of sitting, sipping their tea quietly, they began their usual chatting over random nonsense from the week. At first, transitioning from that rather somber moment to casual conversation was a bit awkward, but soon enough they were back to the same old routine. Edelgard devoured the pastries ravenously, and soon enough they were discussing everything from training strategies to debating over whether an axe or a gauntlet was better for fighting a lance-wielder, to discussing the latest gossip out of the empire. As the sun began to set, Byleth and Edelgard began packing away the remnants of their tea and pastrieS and carried it all back to the kitchen. They proceeded on their way to the dorms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“So does that mean you’d like to continue our Sunday tea?” Byleth asked. Edelgard nodded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“Yes, I would like that. I just...will admit it was a bit difficult trying to talk to you after all of that, but I will also say that it’s preferable to not speaking to you at all.” Edelgard said, a peaceful smile cresting her lips as she bid the professor goodbye._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I hope you enjoyed this week! A bit more of a kind of lighthearted few days which I feel like our girls really freaking deserved. Lots of drama, but I mean fill a military college with queers and the fuck else do you expect? 
> 
> I just wanted to say, several folks messaged me on tumblr and reached out about saying they really enjoyed the story and like, I just wanna let you all know those messages and your comments make my freaking days. 10/10. 
> 
> Just the usual reminder, I have a tumblr @dressthesage , where I post a lot of fire emblem shit including some shitty fanart I do and occasional stuff hinting at potential plot shit.


	9. Chapter 9: What You Know and What You've Yet to be Told.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come to confront the intruders who have their sights set on the crypts below Garreg Mach's grand cathedral. What has come unearthed doesn't end at the Sword of the Creator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Not a whole lot to say about this weeks chapter, except I hope you all enjoy and can't wait to hear y'alls feedback! I feel like I say this every week, but I really am nervous about this weeks chapter cus I feel like I am throwing out some risky plays here. I guess I just kinda feel like a juggler, and every chapter I worry i'm adding one too many balls lmao. But I'm rambling now. Enjoy!

Chapter 9

A few weeks later and the night of the Rite had finally arrived. Byleth was sat in one of the pews of the Cathedral with her head bowed. She wasn’t praying however as both of her eyes were open and staring at the entrance to the hallway leading to the catacombs. Edelgard was in the same faux-worship pose, sat next to Byleth so they could communicate freely and plan until it was time to move. 

Byleth and the Hresvelg had returned to their usual routine over the past two weeks. Edelgard had quit avoiding the professor like she was the plague, their Sunday tea returned to its usual time, and she had thankfully returned to being engaged in the lessons since their conversation.

Byleth sighed and shook her head gently, she needed to focus on the task at hand. However that was hard with the constant droning on of Rhea’s voice as she delivered the Rite at the head of the Cathedral. Byleth had been fading in and out of listening to it for the past hour they’d been sat there, and it just seemed to go on even longer. She would occasionally look up and catch a glimpse of Catherine, stood in her full armor with her sword held out in front of her, tip pressed to the ground and both hands on the grip as she watched over Rhea from beside the entrance to the hallway that led into the Catacombs below. Byleth did feel her boredom ease a bit as she saw the blonde woman. 

Catherine adjusted her shoulders slightly, the weight of her armor and the position of her arms making the joints feel rather strained. She wasn’t complaining however as she listened attentively to the Rite being delivered. No matter how many years she worked with Lady Rhea she still couldn’t help but be entranced by her beauty. However this time was different. The questions she still had yet to ask clouded it ever so slightly. She’d been trying to find a time to speak to Lady Rhea about what Ashe’s father had said, but the time never came up. Or perhaps it would be better said that when it did pop up Catherine never managed to find the courage to ask. 

“...And the goddess put upon Seiros the most divine of quests. That she may build in this world a holy union, a world of peace and harmony built on not greed or willful disobedience but on unity of all of the people who would listen to the goddess’s kind words. Seiros was set upon the chaotic, hedonistic mess that was the world as the goddess knew that that is all the world would ever be under man’s will alone. Seiros took the Holy Word of the Goddess, and with it she brought the people of Fodlan together under her watchful gaze…”

Byleth returned to ignoring the sermon as she saw Petra run up the hallway she and Edelgard had been watching. Almost in unison the entirety of the Black Eagle class, which had been scattered amongst the other people observing Rhea from the pews, stood and moved towards the hallway. 

Catherine held her position, cracking a smile and nodding to Byleth as she walked by. Caspar walked past, sneaking a quick “low-five” from the knight. Catherine couldn't help but smile even wider. She whispered a quick “Kick their asses” to Petra as she passed as well, earning a grin from the woman, as well as the girls standing on either side of her. Catherine was never the best with names, but she thought she remembered those two were Bernadetta and Dorothea. The rest of the students walked past her a moment later and she noticed the Hresvelg girl go a bit red, but actually nod and acknowledge her. She almost chuckled, as she was rather certain she knew why the empress was blushing, Byleth having told her about the heiress walking in on their ‘little indiscretion’ and all. 

The students ran down the hallway, pulling their weapons from slings and sheaths as Byleth stormed towards the heavy wooden double doors. 

“Professor, the intruder locked the doors from their inside!” Petra let Byleth know. 

She nodded, and let out a deep grunt as she stopped and smashed the heel of her boot right between the large ornate handles of the double doors, smashing her way inside. The doors flung open and the class followed their instructor deeper into the catacombs. They poured out of the stairwell, weapons at the ready. 

The Catacombs were carved out of the very stone, with ornately etched pillars that reached up into the tall ceiling. There was a long, wide open foyer that was lined on either side by two parallel rows of coffins, leading up to a larger raised area where several far more ornate coffins stood proudly. At the exact opposite end of the chamber stood a sarcophagus grander than all others near it. Several men in dark robes and strange, twisted bird-like masks stood around it trying to pry it open. 

Most foreboding however was the figure in the dead center of the room. Directly in the way of the Eagle’s path to those robed intruders sat a man in black armor with a helmet in the effigy of a skull. He sat astride a black horse, and in his left hand he held a long scythe. All around him, among the coffins and pillars that made up the dusty and cobwebbed catacombs, stood more men in long ornate robes. 

“And so, you have arrived.” The man said in a long, metallic groan more than an actual spoken sentence. “Step forward and die if you so wish, or turn back and escape with your life. It matters not to me.” The grim figure said, raising his scythe. 

“Professor, those men are tampering with the Tomb of Seiros, we must stop them at once!” Edelgard said, stepping forward. Byleth held her arm out, blocking the girl's path. “Professor this is no time to…” 

“Edelgard, be quiet.” Byleth said, taking her short sword from her belt and stabbing down where Edelgard’s foot had meant to step. The blade was a loud clang of metal smashing against metal, and suddenly a large metallic bear trap was clearly visible wrapped around the professor's blade. Edelgard went a bit red. 

“Oh…” 

“Walk softly and move in groups.” Byleth ordered. “Edelgard, Leonie, Ashe, follow me. Everyone else, watch after each other and avoid the knight as best as you can. You need help, call for it. Go!” And like that the Eagles took off. Byleth led her small group to charge the right side of the room, and the rest charged around the left. The reaper didn’t move towards either group, and for that Byleth was grateful. Even she could feel the strange energy wafting off of that armor. 

Byleth’s group made quick work of clearing the first section of the Catacombs. While Ashe and Leonie went to take on a pair of archers, she ran at the nearest monk and plowed her fist into the side of his head. The bone could be felt as it cracked and shifted under her knuckles, sending the monk sprawling on top of one of the larger stone graves. Blood started to trickle down the side, dribbling onto the floor where it began to pool. 

She turned in time to see Edelgard drop out of the way of a Thoron blast, the bright white beam of light passing over her head by centimeters. She leapt back up and charged at the monk who’d launched the spell. She swung her axe from below, and the blade cut through his robes with ease. A weak gasp could be heard as the axe head slashed through muscle and tendon, seeming to go under the ribs, perhaps smashing through one or two before finally lodging in the mans lung. 

As Edelgard struggled with pulling her axe from the chest of the dead monk, Leonie and Ashe both ran back to them with their weapons dripping in fresh blood. 

“Professor, their numbers are already dwindling, and the man in the armor seems to be remaining where he is.” Ashe reported quickly. Byleth nodded. 

“Good. Let’s make this quick then, and try to take on the knight all against one.” Byleth ordered. They ran towards the next pack of mages, while on the other side of the room, Ferdinand slashed at a monk with his sabre, leaving a long gash across the chest of the quickly blood-soaked robes. Hubert sent a fire blast after the same mage, sending him careened back. As he lay there, twitching on the floor, Hubert went to attack another monk, who was standing off in the distance. He had just pulled his arm back to cast the flames forward when he felt something grab his shirt collar and pull him back. Suddenly the bright beam of a Thoron blast passed by, less than two feet in front of him. Hubert turned to see Ferdinand with a fist full of his collar. 

“For someone who prides themselves in being tactful you sure aren’t very perceptive.” Ferdinand joked, letting go of Hubert's shirt. 

“Well, perhaps if I didn’t have to try and discern between an enemy fire blast and the unruly mess you call a haircut it would be easier to dodge them.” Hubert shot back. Ferdinand smiled. 

“Why would you ever want to dodge my haircut?” Hubert groaned, launching a wind spell at an enemy monk and abandoning the conversation. 

Petra sent an arrow into the chest of an approaching monk, which was followed by another arrow from Bernadetta’s bow. Finally a large spike of dark energy pierced through the monks body, sending him to the grave. Dorothea and Bernadetta smiled to each other as Petra knocked another arrow. The three women stood besides eachother, Petra and Berny with their bows, while Dorothea held a dagger in her hand, just in case anyone got too close. Petra turned to face the other two. 

“That was great team working! Now let’s move and make it certain that the professor has assistance if needed.” They both nodded, and the trio moved towards the last few mages remaining. 

It was moments after that when Dorothea saw, almost in slow motion, as Edelgard charged towards a mage to the north while another one to the east sent a large miasma blast directly towards the princess. 

“Edie! Look out!” Dorothea said, but it was already too late. The pulsing green ball of energy smashed into the side of Edelgard’s head, bursting into a cloud of purple gas. The poor girl fell to the ground, and whether she was unconscious or dead no one could tell just by looking. 

That same mage was already preparing another blast, and if the first spell hadn’t killed the princess then this one absolutely would. Dorothea looked around, panicked as the two women beside her both took aim and fired at the monk, but both of her allies' arrows missed their marks. Her magic wouldn’t reach that far, Dorothea was certain, and she had no weaponry beyond her single dagger. She tried to think of something, anything. 

After a moment she found a memory of the Mock Battle popping to mind, and it was as if a candle was lit above her head. Dorothea flipped her grip on the knife, now holding it with her fingertips on the flat sides of the blade, and whipped her arm back as she focused her energy towards a wind spell. She prayed silently for this to work, and lobbed the knife forward. A mighty wind took off behind the blade and sent it flying, or more accurately spinning, at the mage.

It didn’t go exactly as planned, but the handle of the dagger smashed into the invaders forehead and left him dazed for just a moment. But that moment was all they needed. By the time he’d been able to regain his senses, Professor Eisner was upon him. The behemoth of a woman tackled him to the ground and began smashing his head between the cold stone floor and her iron fist. 

By the time the professor had finished him off, his head was more akin to a pile of gore than any kind of ‘skull’. The other mages were quickly dealt with by the unoccupied students, except for the one who was at this very moment fiddling with the casket. Byleth approached as a loud crack resonated throughout the chamber. The monk threw open the tomb and pulled out a large sword, one that to many of the student’s horror seemed as if it were crafted from bone, monstrous and misshapen bone. 

Byleth felt a sharp crack of pain through her mind, and reached up to cradle her head in her hands. Her iron clad fingers clutched at the sides of her head. She didn’t know how long she stood like that, but she felt a blade digging into her arm and pulled back, both to reality and away from the pain. She swatted out at the now-bloodied blade, knocking it away, out of the mages hands and onto the ground. The blade seemed to glow a subtle red along previously unseen seems in the blade, but this was lost on everyone in the room besides the man sat atop the horse in the middle of the chamber. 

Byleth charged forward, grabbing the mage by his collar and hefting him up into the air. The man’s feet dangled limply off the ground as she walked forward and slammed him down at the edge of the tomb, smacking his head against the base. She grabbed the lid of the tomb and began hefting it up before letting go and dropping it onto the dazed man's head. The crunch of bone beneath stone rang throughout the echoing stone chamber. 

Byleth turned, fists at the ready to face off against the armored knight, but she hesitated as she heard an echoey, metallic sound that she could swear was a laugh. 

“So, the Sword of the Creator has a taste for your blood. Then we have something in common.” He went silent, and after a flash of red light he was gone. Byleth looked around quickly, worried he was intent to teleport somewhere behind her, but it appeared he had well and truly vanished. 

Byleth let her arms drop as she went to Edelgard, who was still motionless on the ground. The professor quickly began checking to make sure if there was any serious injury to her neck or signs of fracture in her skull. Both parts, however, seemed intact. She pressed a finger to the girl's wrist and felt the thump of blood traveling through her veins. She rolled Edelgard onto her back, and could not see the girl’s chest rise. She pressed her ear to Edelgard’s rib cage, and heard a slow but present thumping sound, along with the occasional whoosh of air in and out of her longs. She was breathing. The breaths were slow and shallow, certainly, but she was still breathing. 

“Um, Professor, what are you doing to Edie?” Dorothea asked as she approached with the rest of the class. 

“Dorothea, quit being weird. The professor’s just trying to make sure she’s ok.” Leonie said as she walked over, carrying the large and bloody bone blade that had been pulled from the tomb moments before. The glow had long since faded from the blade before any of them had any opportunity to see it. “Professor,I grabbed this off the ground.” she said, handing over the sword. Byleth took it and put it into her belt. She had little need for blades, and her short sword took up much less space, so there was little about it that interested her beyond it’s morbid design. Byleth went back to the fallen student and reached down. She knelt down and lifted Edelgard’s head slightly, sliding one arm under her shoulders and using her elbow to brace the girls neck. She hooked her other arm underneath the crook of Her student’s knees, and began to pick her up. 

“Professor, I would very much advise you…” Hubert began, his voice coming out much more aggravated then he had intended. 

“Hubert, I’m really not very interested in your advice right now. ” Byleth said bluntly, lifting Edelgard into her arms with ease. As she adjusted the young woman, a small army of knights poured into the catacombs through the same stairwell they had exited not much earlier. Alois led the charge and, seeing the bloodbath that surrounded the rather relaxed looking Eagle’s, grew a rather horrified expression. 

“You… are you all ok?” He asked, surveying the bloody mess that had been made of one of the churches most holy sites. 

“Is anyone else injured?” Byleth asked as she turned to face her students. They all made some gesture of ‘no’. Ferdinand simply shook his head no, Caspar held a thumb up, Petra patter herself down for a moment, as if looking for some missed wound, and Hubert glared at her with such utter contempt she figured he must be his usual self. “We’re fine, Alois. All but one of us that is. I'm taking my student to Manuela’s infirmary. Please inform the Archbishop that if she wants her report tonight I’ll be giving it there. If not, then I’ll report to the Audience Chambers in the morning.” Byleth said. 

“OK?” Alois muttered as he gave her a rather shocked expression, but raised no protest. Byleth nodded and again looked to her students. 

“You did well today, all of you. Take tomorrow off to rest, and you’re free to go.” Several students smiled, except for Hubert and Dorothea. As the other students moved to leave, the songstress hung back for just a moment, looking at the unconscious woman in Byleth’s arms with concern evident on her face. 

“Just… please be careful with her, Professor.” Dorothea said before walking away. , Byleth began making her way towards the stairwell, and Hubert remained with her as she walked out of the catacombs, through the now empty church, and towards campus. About halfway across the bridge to the main office, Byleth finally spoke up. 

“If you’re going to insist on following me, at the very least stand here with me and don’t trail behind like a common mugger, Hubert. It’s beneath you.” The Vestra let out a displeased chuckle. 

“You really are insufferable, Professor. Are you aware of that?” He said as he walked a bit closer. Byleth sighed and paused her walking. 

“I’ve been told similar before, yes.” She said, as if commenting on the weather.

“Yet you insist on remaining so infuriatingly stubborn.” Hubert chastised. The weight of the Hresvelg in her arms was causing a cramp in her shoulder, so Byleth hefted Edelgard a bit higher, adjusting her weight as she listened to Hubert’s diatribe. 

“Hubert, I’m just trying to get her to the infirmary. How about, for one goddess forsaken moment, you give me the slightest bit of understanding as opposed to simply scowling at me like some displeased child. Once I'm not carrying a future emperor you can chastise me to your heart's content. Can you at least agree to that?” Byleth asked, exasperated. Hubert gave a short ‘hmph’ in reply, but his scowl smoothed out into something more expressionless, and Byleth figured it was something. 

Edelgard felt herself bobbing up and down slowly, occasionally jostling a bit to one side or the other as the sensation continued. She felt warm, as if she were laying atop a furnace. The heat sunk into her aching muscles and bones. It made her feel comfortable. She adjusted herself without even thinking, pressing herself a bit harder against the warm mass around her. As she breathed, slowly in and out, she caught the scent of something familiar, Lavender mixed with soil and salt. It was strange, but it made her feel safe, at least for a moment. 

That moment ended as she realized there was something behind her back and underneath her legs, something dense and long...arms, there were arms underneath her. She was being carried.   
Edelgard’s eye opened immediately and her fist swung out. She didn’t know nor did she care who or what was carrying her, but she felt her knuckle meet the side of something’s jaw, then the arms beneath her drop away. 

She managed to land on her feet, and broke into a dead sprint in the opposite direction. She heard footsteps and yelling behind her, so she ran even faster. The world passed by her in a blur as she began rounding around one corner, and then another, and then another. She was not so much taking in her surroundings, as she was just looking for anything resembling a gap or turn she could jump through, escape through, turn down, or use to try and find her way out. She had to find her way out. 

As soon as Byleth had taken her students into the Catacombs, Catherine began actively preparing for the moment Lady Rhea had completed her Rite. When she did, Catherine walked towards her and began leading Rhea to the door. Her job was to guard the Archbishop, and it was a job she was more than happy to fulfill. 

The two moved quickly down the bridge, up the stairs, and to Lady Rhea’s main office where several other knights stood guard. While Byleth and her students dealt with the intruders, the knight’s would hold this location like a fortress within a fortress to protect the Archbishop. Catherine led Lady Rhea into the office, and the knights sealed the doors closed behind them, leaving them alone. Catherine made sure Lady Rhea was comfortable seated before dropping herself into a chair of her own with a heavy thud and a sigh. 

“Now we just wait to be retrieved by Lord Seteth, My Archbishop..” Catherine said, looking towards the door and back to the Archbishop. The seafoam-green haired woman pat the knight’s hand gently as she spoke.

“Thank you, Catherine. You and your knights have done well.” Rhea said with a soft smile. Catherine felt her heart skip a beat, and a grin of her own grew on her lips. The Archbishop pulled her hand away, and as time passed that grin faded into a dull frown. Rhea looked at her, concerned. “Is something the matter, Sir Catherine?” 

“....No...well….I need to ask you something. It’s about Cristophe.” The knight said, her voice clearly a bit nervous. Lady Rhea held her same smile, but Catherine felt like something had left it. What had once felt warm and welcoming now felt cold, isolating. She was certain however she was merely seeing something where there was nothing and losing herself to nerves.

“Whatever could you need to know about Cristophe, dear Catherine?” Rhea asked, pulling her hand up and resting it on the knight’s shoulder. Catherine sighed, and wondered if she should drop the subject. Cristophe was long dead, so it was beyond unimportant, what was the bother? But then she thought of Ashe, and knew eventually she’d need to answer the kid’s questions. 

“I want to ask you about something Lonato said during his insurrection. He blathered on about Cristophe having saved my life, but I have no memory of anything like that. I know it was likely just him lost in his own delusions, but I thought maybe if anyone might know anything for certain, it would be you.” Catherine rambled on, her words finally trailing off.

“Well, Lonato was indeed a man long lost from the path of sense. But he was not entirely wrong in this case. Cristophe was indeed involved with helping to pull you from the flames of that awful fire you were trapped in after that abysmal failure of a mission all those years ago. However to characterize that as ‘saving your life’ seems beyond foolish. Cristophe was a good man, however sadly it was that those filthy heathens of the Western Church had mislead him in hopes of overturning the Goddess’s will.” Rhea said. 

“He, he what?!” Catherine asked, standing up. 

“Yes, don’t you remember?” Rhea asked, lifting her hand to Catherine’s cheek. Catherine felt warmth in the touch, and for just a moment the wonder of that touch helped distract her from the memories of that day. It was nice, feeling Rhea’s touch like this. She felt her heart pining for more but knew she had to hold herself back. 

“I...I don’t remember anything about that...I just remember the battle...falling to the ground...and the next thing I remember is waking up to you healing me in the infirmary.” Catherine said weakly. 

“Oh dear girl, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You were so horribly defeated by the bandits, it is not uncommon to have issues with memory after such humiliating loss as that. But try, try to remember” Rhea said, and Catherine felt a pang of guilt through her. 

She tried, picking at the bits and pieces she remembers, looking at the shard to try and understand the larger picture. But it had always been such a fractured picture ever since it happened. 

She had been just barely an adult back then, a student of the Blue Lion house. It had been their final mission, one last hurrah before their graduation. Catherine had, through her prowess in combat, earned herself an offer of a position as a recruit in the Holy Guard of the king of Faergus. She remembered Cristophe had just recently accepted a position within the Adrestian Empire’s military as well. The two of them had been chattering away, about what she couldn’t remember, and suddenly their group had been attacked by the very same bandits they’d been sent to hunt. The lamp Catherine had been carrying fell when she was attacked, and she was left injured, unconscious, and surrounded by flames. 

That used to be where the fragments ended, but as she tried to pry open the memory, to remember anything else she could she started seeing flickers of a memory. What Rhea had said seemed to have sparked something in her. She saw Cristophe through barely opened eyelids as he was dragging her from the flames. She remembered the feeling of hobbling on a likely broken leg as he helped to carry her the long march back to Garreg Mach. Then everything else was the same. She woke up in Lady Rhea’s office, with the Archbishop’s hands engulfed in the green glow of healing magic. She remembered that first moment she saw Rhea’s face, the way her heart beat through her chest as she fell, head over heels in love with the archbishop from the moment she laid eyes on her. 

“I...He….He saved me….”Catherine collapsed in her seat, bent over and barely propped up by her elbows on her knees, her hands running through her hair. Rhea rested her hand back on Catherine’s shoulder. The knight’s head hurt and tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Cristophe was a good man. It’s important to remember that even good men can be turned into monsters by those who wish to threaten the Goddess. Just please know, my dearest Catherine, no one blames you for your weakness, your failure. I'm sure there are plenty of people who would’ve made the same awful, awful mistakes. Do not let it haunt you. Make those who lost their lives not have died in vain, but allow them to help to keep on your holy path. Allow them to aid you as you fight all who would wish the Goddess harm, and you will see forgiveness in the Goddess’s love.” Rhea cooed. Catherine nodded, tears flowing down her cheek, illuminated by the dim light of a single candle. 

“Y...Yes ma’am.” She said, voice cracking.

“Good girl.” Rhea said, petting Catherine’s hair. She was right. She’d come too far from that day, done too much, given too much. She couldn’t let this shake her resolve, she had to keep going. She allowed herself to bask in the warmth of Rhea’s touch as it seemed to flow through her and flood her entire body. For just a moment she felt at peace. 

Edelgard panted weakly as she fled for her life. She had to keep going, she wouldn’t go back. No. Never. Never. Not to those cells, not to those damned cells they carried her back to after every single day of their sick experimentation. She would never go back. She’d die before she went back. She’d claw their eyes out. She’d tear their throats out with her teeth. She’d do whatever she had to do to take as many of them to hell with her as she could. 

They weren’t going to carry her back to that hell on earth, never again. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never.

Edelgard was torn from her thoughts when she felt herself being pinned against something cold. She screamed and swung out, clawing and hitting at whatever was holding her. She heard something far off in the distance, and slowly the cold sunk into her bones, pulling her mind to come back into focus as the world around her became less familiar, and yet at the same time more.

It was dark, nearly pitch black except for a light coming in from her right. She recognized the door. It wasn’t from the palace, it wasn’t from the dungeon, where was it from? Where had those damned monsters taken her this time?! It took her a moment to realize…It was the door to the classroom. 

She started to focus in better, and turned her head to see that the thing pinning her against what she now realized was a wooden support beam was a very sweaty, clearly injured, and quite out of breath Byleth Eisner. 

“Edelgard…?” Byleth asked softly, as if testing to see if it were really her or some impostor. 

“Pr..professor….what’s going on?” Edelgard asked nervously, her feet felt terrible, and when she looked down she realized her shoes were gone, nowhere to be found. 

“You were injured while we were on a mission here on campus. You took a hard hit to the head, and when I was taking you to see Manuela you punched me in the jaw and ran away. You’ve been running me ragged around the campus for hours.” Byleth explained slowly. Edelgard blushed deep red as she realized what had happened. She saw that Byleth had a rather large bruise starting to form along the ridge of their jawline and creeping up her cheek. Beside that were several long scratches, one going over her left eye and several around her cheeks and along her neck. 

“But...But I was...I...What….how….but….I...I’m so sorry, Professor.” Edelgard said, realizing her eyes were wet and her cheeks felt raw. How long had she been crying? 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Edelgard.” Byleth said, tentatively leaning back a bit, hands still on the student’s shoulders. “Are you ok for me to let you go?” She asked tentatively. This wasn’t the first time she’d finally managed to stop Edelgard only for the girl to manage to quite literally claw, or one or twice bite, her way out. However this was by far the most lucid she had been any of those times. The Hresvelg nodded, and Byleth pulled her hands back, stepping away and giving her some space. The heiress sat on the edge of one of the desks, pulling herself up to rest her sore feet. Byleth moved over to a similar spot on the next desk over, turning to face her student. “Edelgard, what’s going on?” She asked, sounding both physically and mentally exhausted for the first time the princess could ever really remember. Edelgard bit her lower lip, playing with her fingers as she tried to think of what to say. She decided it was one of those rare occasions where it would be best to go with the truth. 

“I…. You remember what I told you after the Ravine… about my family?” 

“Of course. How could I not?” Byleth’s voice was quiet, barely above a hushed whisper, bracing her elbows on her knees and her boots on the seat of the desk. 

“Well, I think you should know more. My brothers and sisters and I were dragged beneath the palace after the insurrection of the seven, the coup that turned my father into the weak puppet he is today.” Byleth’s fist clenched, and a loud pop came from a joint in her hand. “There we… we were tortured. Cut open and sewn back together, poked, and prodded. They poured blood and who knows what else from different people, creatures, anything. We were experimented on, all for the sake of trying to imbue us with a major crest above the minor crests many of us already held. The nobility demanded a major crest for the throne of the Empire, and they destroyed not just mine and my siblings but countless innocent people’s lives in their experiments until finally I… I displayed the Crest of Flames, the same crest as that of Nemesis, King of Liberation from all those centuries ago. With that, they ended the experiments, at least on us. But the price was too high. My brothers and sisters are either dead, dying, or in the throws of madness they will never escape.” Edelgard grit her teeth against the tears she felt welling back up in her stinging eyes. “The day I saw the sun for the first time in all those years, I swore I’d burn away the oppressive, destructive system that had forced this pain upon us and so many more of its people in the name of crest and class. I vowed that I would use my reign as Emperor to make this world one where all people have a life worth living, and may determine their own destiny. Where all may stand together as one, united as equals to build a better world.” Edelgard looked at byleth, who sat there, elbows propped on her knees as blank faced as she ever was. 

“Who did it?” Byleth asked bluntly. 

“Who…?” Edelgard looked a bit confused. 

“Who gave the order? Who started the torture?” Byleth asked, and Edelgard saw something passing over her professor’s eyes, as if it were a fog. She could see the muscle in Byleth’s jaw clenched tight. 

“The prime minister, and the leading nobles.” Edelgard said. She wasn’t lying, they were the ones who demanded the crest, but she was still not sure if she should test her luck by talking about the others involved in that ordeal. 

“Ferdinand’s father?!” Byleth asked, her voice raising as she stood. Edelgard simply nodded. 

“Ferdinand doesn’t know, I have made sure. He is not to blame for his father’s crimes.” Byleth sighed at the princess’s words and rested her hand on the handle of her short sword, the other blade at her waist still acting quite cumbersome. She walked away, and Edelgard worried for just a moment that she intended to walk away completely, to leave her in this classroom. It was foolish, but she couldn’t resist the fear. 

Byleth walked back and forth however, pacing as she seemed to be having a debate with herself, mouthing words in a whisper far too quiet to be heard. After a while, the Professor turned and knelt down, looking Edelgard in the eye. 

“That’s why you hated me when I first came here, isn’t it? You didn’t like me mocking the nobility for an easy life because….” 

“Because my life was not easy, nor was my siblings. That was part of it, yes.” Edelgard said, her voice sharp, but her cheeks grew a bit red as she thought about just how much had changed in such a short period. . 

“Well...I’m sorry.” Edelgard fealt a tired, weak smile form along her lips. It felt like such a strange sensation to smile while crying. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Professor.” Edelgard mumbled. It seemed like such a petty gripe she’d had, now that she looked back at those first few weeks she’d known this strange, emotionless woman. 

“I want to help.” Whatever expression was on Edelgard’s face was wiped away, quickly replaced by shock. 

“H..help?” 

“With your goal. Your fight.” Byleth said, her expression blank as it ever was and her eyes back that unreadable gaze Edelgard found so familiar. “I want to help you make this world better.” Byleth said, offering out her hand. 

“And in return?” Edelgard’s suspicion was clear in her voice. 

“Nothing. Nothing except that you be willing to accept my help, and the help of your classmates as well.” Byleth said, hand still outstretched.

Edelgard stared for a good long while at the hand, which was bare of any gloves or gauntlets. It was a scarred, calloused hand, much like her own. Was it really any wonder then that it was one of the kindest she could remember having been offered in years? It reminded her of the day Hubert joined her in her crusade all those years ago when they were still barely more than children. 

Edelgard sighed, and finally took her professor's hand. Her grip was firm, but it surprised Edelgard how nice the rough skin felt against her own, only separated by the thin silk of her gloves. Edelgard went to stand, and a searing pain stabbed into her feet. Looking down she saw a not-insubstantial pool of blood below where her feet had been dangling while she’d sat on the desk. Byleth helped her stay standing, and to sit back down, but it was clearly more walking wasn’t an option. 

“As much as you may hate it, I think you either need to let me carry you to Manuela, or sit here until I can bring her to you.” Byleth said, as she was helping her sit back down. Edelgard thought for a moment, but it wasn’t a hard decision. The dark was not a place she wanted to be alone at this moment. 

“...I...you’re still willing to after…” She gestured to Byleth’s jaw. 

“What, this? Don’t worry about it. But, my compliments. You throw a hell of a cross. You ought to consider brawling as an area of study.” Byleth said, grabbing under Edelgard's knees and shoulders, just as she had before. Edelgard was bright right as Byleth began lifting her up with ease, but whether that was with embarrassment from being carried or from her recollection of how the professors last ‘brawling lessons’ went was to be seen. Byleth however seemed to have completely missed the potential implications of her comment, but she was rather curious as to what had Sothis laughing so loudly.

It was shocking to Edelgard how little effort Byleth seemed to put into carrying her out of the classroom. She could feel the muscles shifting in her professor's arms and chest beneath her as she was carried to the infirmary. It felt like she was laying on top of taught steel cables, but it was strangely comfortable. Edelgard sighed, and when she breathed in she smelled that same salty lavender and soil scent she’d noticed before. So that really was the professor’s scent on that sleeping bag all those weeks ago. It had been strange to her that first time, but it was actually rather nice as she was exposed to it more. It seemed fitting, but Edelgard struggled to think of why. 

“Thank you, Professor.” Edelgard muttered under her breath. She felt so very tired all of a sudden as the adrenaline that she’d been running on started to fade from her veins. 

“It’s not a problem. Just don’t crack my jaw this time.” Byleth said back. 

“You’re such an ass.” Edelgard mumbled, falling asleep in Byleth’s arms. Byleth looked down once the insults had stopped, and saw the peaceful look on Edelgard's sleeping face. It made her feel strangely warm in a way she didn’t quite recognize. She hadn’t ever noticed just how small the princess actually was. 

By the time she finally made it to Manuela’s office Seteth and Rhea were already there, standing outside the doors waiting for her. Seteth looked livid. 

“Eisner! What is the meaning of this?! Demanding Sir Alois waste his time to ferry some message to us only for it to be a childish demand that we come to you for a report? Then you have the sheer audacity to arrive hours late!” The green haired man ranted.

“Shut up and move.” Byleth muttered as she pushed him out of her way with her shoulder, knocking him aside and softly kicking the bottom of the door behind him, swinging it in slowly. 

“Manuela?” Byleth said in what could only be called a loud whisper. The dress-clad professor stood from a desk at the end of the room and began walking towards her. “Shhhh, she took a hit to the head, and ended up having some sort of panic. She spent hours running me ragged around the campus trying to stop her. Her feet are badly torn, likely from the cobblestone. I’m worried if she wakes up and I’m still carrying her I may get another shiner.” Byleth arched her neck, showing the bruise. Manuela gestured towards a cot nearby. 

“Lay her there. I’ll tend to her in just a moment.” Manuela whispered back. 

“Thank you Professor.” Byleth said, laying Edelgard carefully onto the cot. She nodded to Manuela and left, walking out to greet an even more enraged Seteth and a concerned looking Rhea. 

“Miss Eisner I am absolutely livid!” Seteth fumed. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Byleth shot back, stepping so close she couldn’t be more than an inch from Seteth’s face. She stood just a few centimeters shorter than him, but that gap meant little when Byleth had at least thirty pounds on the man, if not more. “I had an injured student on my hands and you, rather than make yourself of any use, stood in my path and shouted at me. If you don’t want to be pushed aside then learn to do something or get out of my way.” Byleth whispered, her face blank except for the crease in her forehead and the furrow in her brow. “Now, if it’s really been such a damned inconvenience, here’s your report. We won, the intruders lost, every one of them is dead, every one of our people is alive. Oh, and here, take your damned antique back. That’s what they were after. Now leave! I will not have your banshee shriek waking my student in the middle of their treatment.” Byleth practically growled, pulling the blade from her belt and shoving it into the lords hands. Byleth began walking to the stairs.But Seteth and Rhea followed close behind, stopping her in the hall in front of the audience chamber. 

“Professor Eisner!” Rhea called after her as they entered the chamber. “Are aware of what this is?” She asked, holding the sword. 

“An old sword made of bone? I’d say it’s a relic. Looks a lot like Catherine’s Thunderbrand. But, whatever it is, the people who broke in here for it are dead. Mission accomplished as per instruction.” Byleth replied bluntly. Rhea looked at the Professor, eyes full of concern and disappointment. Seteth was agog. 

“That is the Sword of the Creator! A gift from the goddess herself and you toss it around like a training blade!” Seteth scowled as if Byleth had slapped his mother. 

“Well, considering I and my students saved it and the rest of the tombs from that pack of monks and their grim reaper friend, maybe you ought to extend some courtesy regarding my ignorance.” Byleth shot back. 

“Please, Seteth calm yourself.” Rhea said after resting a hand on his shoulder, and just like that, he took a breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose, his shoulders visibly relaxing. 

“Apologies, Archbishop. I lost my temper. Miss Eisner, be more specific. What did the people trying to steal the sword wear?” Seteth inquired. 

“It was a group of monks with dark robes and strange bird masks. They also had some man in a skull helmet standing by on a horse, but he never attacked and when all the monks were dead, he disappeared.” Rhea looked even more concerned. 

“That sounds like the uniform the Western Church uses for its men, but the skull knight is most unusual, and quite disturbing. Did anything else of interest happen?” Rhea asked, a creep of desperation in her voice as she heard the woman’s grip on the blade tighten. Byleth thought for a moment and shook her head. 

“Nothing that comes to mind, ma’am. One of the monks managed to blindside one of my students with a miasma blast and knocked her unconscious, but she’s being attended to by Professor Maneuala.” Rhea looked even more disappointed. Byleth had no idea why. They'd won, hadn’t they? 

“Thank you, professor. You’re relieved for the night. Go look after yourself and your students, and rest.” She said, holding the blade in her hands, looking almost forlorn. Byleth bowed to Rhea and began walking away. She had a campus to search.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading this weeks chapter! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, I really enjoy interacting with y'alls theories and comments and feedback, so comment even if you feel like what you wanna say is lame! I promise it aint lmao. 
> 
> Thanks to @The_Unqualified1 for helping proofread this chapter!


	10. Chapter 10: Don’t Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard wakes up from a strange dream that makes her question even more what exactly she thinks of the Professor, all the while Catherine is nowhere to be found as she deals with the fallout of her new memories of her and Christophe’s past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! First off, this chapter starts with some major NSFW stuff, so please be warned lmao. 
> 
> Also! We’ve officially made it to 10 chapters! I’ll be honest this week's update is one of the ones I’m most nervous about. But I say that like every week, so I hope you all enjoy a bit of gay drama. Let me know what y’all think! I really appreciated talking to some of y’all about last weeks chapter, so don’t be shy!

Edelgard felt her fingers tangled in Byleth’s short, choppy hair as she held a tight grip on the back of her head. She stood over the woman’s mostly-naked form, herself only wearing her red tights and shorts, while her unbuttoned blouse hung loosely on her shoulders. She could hear the blue haired woman’s desperate panting even with the mattress she was currently having her face shoved into muffling the sound. 

The professor’s nude backside was dangled over the side of the bed, and the long, jagged scars that covered her bared skin were not ignored, as Edelgard pressed her lips against the jagged, uneven skin slowly. All the while, she could feel her fingers as they slid in and out of her professor’s wet slit. A loud moan escaped the thick downy bedding pressed to Byleth’s mouth as her fingers continued their motions.In and out, in and out, and in and out over and over again. The moans were almost taunts to the Empress as she tightened her grip on her instructor’s scalp.

Byleth gripped at the bedsheets below her as Edelgard slid her fingers out, drawing a noise that could only be called a whimper from her lips. The noise however was cut off when the grip on her hair wrenched back, and the blue haired woman felt her face being pulled from the mattress. She was left staring at the ceiling as she could feel the woman’s breath on the back of her neck, tickling against her ear. 

“Begging already? So unbecoming of you, Professor.” Edelgard whispered as she teased her entrance with her fingers. The grip on the woman’s scalp tightened, and the Empress nipped at the older woman's earlobe before continuing on with her taunting. “But don’t be so restrained, if you want something, beg for it properly.” Her voice made it clear. That was not a suggestion, but an order, and it was one Byleth was very enthusiastic to obey. 

“Please...Edelgard please. I need you...” Byleth begged, the humiliation of the entire situation much less important to her than the ache between her thighs. 

“Mmmm, louder. Beg me to let you orgasm.” Edelgard ordered again, teasing Byleth’s clitorus with the tip of her finger, still slick with her own wetness. The professor did as she was told, practically screaming. 

“Please! I’ll do whatever you want, just stop teasing me!” Byleth begged, and soon enough she felt her student’s fingers slide within her, pausing for just a moment before curling against her walls and pressing firmly against the tight bundle of nerves nestled behind her pubic bone. She felt the fingers press and relax over and over, and before long the grip on her hair was released. She felt herself drop limply onto the bed and proceeded to lay there, her knees shuddering. 

Edelgard’s fingers continued curling as she toyed with her professor’s most sensitive spot, and couldn’t help but bite her lip and smile as she heard the muffled moans escaping the woman’s lips. She grabbed the back of Byleth’s neck, holding her in place yet again as the professor clenched around her fingers, and her thighs weakly tried to clamp around her hand. A moment later, and the professor was panting weakly on the bed, legs still dangled over the sides as she felt edelgard’s fingers slip out of her once again. This time, however, she was too exhausted to whimper. 

Edelgard straightened out her spine, having been bent over rather awkwardly to manage that position. Once she had finished her little stretch, she took a moment to button one or two of her blouse buttons and then laid herself onto the bed beside the exhausted instructor. She took a moment and cleaned off her fingers with her tongue, smiling a bit as she looked over to see the professor smiling weakly, watching her. 

She looked away, and soon after heard some rustling around. Moments later, Byleth’s head was resting on her chest and the professor’s arm was draped over her stomach. 

“You’re such a tease.” Byleth grumbled under her breath, moving her hand up and down as she slowly traced the still uncovered portions of Edelgards sternum. The empress could only chuckle weakly, her eyelids growing heavier with every passing second. 

“Mmmm, dear Byleth it’s not my fault I find your whimpering cute. Besides, I’m not completely evil. I did actually finish what I started.” Edelgard said, trying to defend herself while she only seemed to grow more tired. Slowly she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, squeezing the blue haired woman’s shoulder with one arm with what little strength she could muster. 

“True. That’s not why you’re evil.” Byleth acknowledged, and Edegard felt the fingers tracing her sternum pressing harder, the nail suddenly feeling much sharper. “You’re evil because even through all of this, you still plan to betray me for the sake of some petty revenge.” Byleth’s voice lost all emotion as she spoke, becoming something dead and hollow. Edelgard felt the finger on her chest go stiff and cold, and could only look over, dazidly, to look at Byleth. The woman she’d just been speaking too sat covered in blood beside her, her eyes seeming to have been hollowed out, as all that could be seen was empty black darkness. “Why……..Why El?” 

Her eyes opened like a bolt of lighting had struck her, and she realized she was nowhere near that strange room, nor that monstrous Professor. She was on a cot, a rather generously worn one at that. So, that had all been a dream. The fact that that hollow-eyed creature was gone was reassuring to Edelgard, but that comfort was quickly supplanted by confusion. Why in the name of the goddess was she dreaming about something like that!? Even without the monster, it was disturbing to her that she was thinking in such a manner about her own professor. She shook her head and tried to reorient herself to the rest of the room around her. Her body felt sore, and the memories of the battle in the Catacombs the night before trickled back into her mind, followed closely by the memories of what happened between the catacombs and where she was now. 

She tried to clear her head before leaning down and checking the soles of her feet, only to find they were both fully healed. Looking around the room she saw that it was Professor Manuela’s infirmary. She turned and sat on the edge of the cot, startled by what she saw. 

There, laid out on the other side of the room, was Professor Eisner asleep under her cloak just like she had been in the woods. A massive tuft of her wild mess of blue hair stuck out of one side while the other was occupied by her boots, which were still on for some ungodly reason. Edelgard blushed as the site of the Professor brought right back to the forefront of her mind what she’d just been trying to forget. She did smile a bit as she saw her there, but was admittedly confused as to exactly why. She looked around and saw professor Manuela sitting at her desk on the far end of the room, the morning sun shining through the window behind her. Edelgard stood and began walking towards her. 

“Hello Miss Hresvelg. How are you feeling?” Manuela asked as she looked up from what appeared to be a romance novel in her hands, if the two figures pressed together in what seemed like a rather uncomfortable position was any indication. 

“I feel well,Professor, thank you so very much.” Edelgard said. “Um, would it be any imposition if I were to ask you a question?” 

“Go right ahead, my dear.” Manuela said, putting the book aside. 

“Why is Professor Eisner here? Was she injured last night as well?” Edelgard asked nervously. She remembered the scratches that had been on the professor’s face, but if the professor had been seriously injured and had to delay her treatment because of her ‘episode’ last night, or worse yet if Edelgard had been the cause, she’d feel absolutely terrible. Professor Manuela gave her an odd look she didn’t quite understand, as if she were a child asking a silly question with an obvious answer. But that look faded into a gentle smile. 

“No dear, she wasn’t injured beyond a few bruises and scratches. She came back a little while after she dropped you off to drop off your shoes. Before she could leave she fell asleep there, right in the middle of our conversation I might add. Quite rude.” Manuela said the last bit in a huff, making the student laugh. 

“Sounds appropriate for her. Well, unless you have need of us, I can wake her and we’ll quit bothering you.” 

“Thank you, dear.” Manuela said, picking her book back up and flipping through it eagerly. Edelgard could read the title now, ‘Contact and Deception’. “Oh and Lady Edelgard!” The heiress turned back and the professor had a rather accusatory grin. “You may want to come see me some time, about your sleep mumbling that is. It’s rather unbecoming of a young lady of your stature and I'm sure I could find something to help.” Her eyes flickered over towards Edelgard’s professor and then back to her. “And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but that woman is not very good at taking orders. Don’t go and get your hopes up. Have a nice day!” Manuela flashed a coy smile and went back to her book. Edelgard, whose face was now resembling a beat, chose not to respond and instead returned to walking over to her professor’s cot. Once her face was slightly less warm, she prepared to reach out and wake the woman when a floorboard creaked under her foot. Byleth shot up like an arrow, head turning to the door. It took her a moment to realize there was nothing there and that Edelgard was standing in front of her, now rather wide-eyed. 

“Oh! Um, good morning, Professor.” Edelgard said tentatively, seeing the remnants of the marks that had been left on her instructor’s face. 

“Good to see you up, Edelgard. You feeling ok?” Byleth asked, shifting her weight over and sitting up on the edge of her cot, taking a moment to check the fastenings on her boots. 

“I’m fine. Professor Manuela is good at her job.” Edelgard said, looking at the cot she’d been sat at. At the foot of the cot were her boots, tossed onto the floor haphazardly, however that didn’t come as a shock. It was the professor who’d brought them after all. How had the woman known she kept an old set of spare boots in her room? How had she even gotten access to her room? 

Byleth stood and Edelgard heard several popping sounds as the professor’s bones settled into place from their positions on the cot. She popped her neck to either side and pulled her coat over her tunic, her armor having been left at her dorm when she went to retrieve Edelgard’s shoes. The student turned to her professor,curiosity plain on her face. 

“Why are you here, Professor?” Edelgard asked. She didn’t hear it, but Manuela had put down her book, and was now watching the two, absolutely enthralled. 

Byleth gestured to the shoes on the floor, not paying her words much of any attention. ”I found your boots last night, looks like they’d fallen off when you were running me around the training field, so I brought them back.” A second glance proved the professor’s words true, Edelgard saw none of the larger scuffs she remembered on the older spare boots in her dorm, so the professor really had gone and searched what must have been a pitch black field just to find her shoes. 

“But why did you stay? N..Not that I’m not appreciative of you finding my shoes.” Edelgard stumbled over her words, and Manuela tried to strangle down a chuckle as she saw the poor young girl floundering. 

“Well, figured it was smart to have someone familiar nearby.'' I asked Manuela and she gave the ok to take a cot for the night, just in case. Speaking of, let’s get out of her hair. ” Byleth moved for the door, but paused as Edelgard spoke. 

“Just in case of what?” Confusion painted itself across the girl’s face. Byleth turned back and shrugged.

“Well, in case you woke up again and thought you were somewhere…” Byleth quickly nodded towards the woman sat at her desk, who suddenly seemed to be rather desperately looking for her book. “..Let's call it less pleasant and more familiar. I was here in case I was needed.” Byleth said, her monotone making it hard to tell how caring or annoyed she had intended that last sentence. 

“Well, thank you. I think.” Edelgard said. Byleth nodded and gestured towards the door.

“Alright, give me a moment.” Edelgard said, quickly moving to her cot and putting on her shoes before starting out the door and down the hall, followed close behind by her professor. Manuela had an evil grin on her face, and she absolutely could not wait for her next appointment for tea with Dorothea. 

“You know, I really do think it’d be wise to switch out your boots for something a bit more practical. At least something without heels.” Byleth commented, her thumb looped into the belt beside her shortsword as they walked out of the staircase and out onto the grounds. 

“Of all students, you choose my attire to question?” Edelgard asked jokingly, standing in the plot of grass in front of the classrooms. 

“Well, if I tried to speak to Dorothea about wearing a blouse that actually fit for once I’m pretty sure that girl would launch a bloody coup.” The laughter that muttered comment drew for Edelgard sent that same strange warmth through Byleth, and shook her head a bit to try and clear it. 

“Entirely possible, to be sure.” Edelgard’s face went a bit serious, as if she were lost in thought. Finally her face settled on serious.“Professor, did you mean what you meant last night? About helping me achieve my goal” Byleth nodded, leaning against one of the columns of the building. 

“Wouldn’t have made much sense to lie, now would it?” The concept seemed to strike the Professor as ridiculous. 

“Maybe not.” Edelgard said, blushing a bit. “But does that mean just while we’re here, or will you keep your word, even when we leave the Monastery?” Byleth saw something drop in that instant. The girl before her wasn’t Edelgard Von Hresvelg, Heir Apparent to the throne of the valiant Adrestian Empire. No, stood before her was no one other than Edelgard, her comrade who even in her panic the night before had not looked so nervous as she did right then.

“Edelgard, what do you mean when we leave?” Byleth looked at her, eyebrows furrowing together. Edelgard shook her head, and as quickly as it had dropped the wall was back up. 

“Nevermind, it was a silly question. I will see you in class tomorrow, professor. Have a good day!” With that, she was gone. Byleth sighed and shook her head. What had she gotten herself into with this class?

_“Well, clearly she has been paying attention to you. She’s mastered at least one of your skills down pat.” _Sothis teased from the back of Byleth’s mind.__

__“And what would that be?” Byleth rubbed the bridge of her nose, she sincerely did not need this right now._ _

___“Communicating with all of the grace of a brick wall.” _Sothis laughed as she felt the utter exasperation flooding the woman’s mind.___ _

____“Charming. Very charming.” Byleth muttered as she walked towards the training field, feeling rather determined to get some actual training in. She had found it rather difficult over the past six weeks or so to actually get much in the way of training done, thanks in no small part to her recurring ‘training partner’. She began her laps around the training field, trying to use the exercise to distract herself, however that proved fruitless._ _ _ _

____She wasn’t complaining about Catherine’s presence, not in the slightest. She found her to be pleasant company, even beyond their more physical activities. The woman’s presence in the Eagle’s training days had also seemed to improve morale around the class, which was good. There was something Catherine seemed to be able to do to connect with the student’s that Byleth just lacked, and Byleth respected that, or perhaps appreciated it would be a more accurate description. Catherine seemed like a good compliment to Byleth’s lessons, and while it had yet to be tested their styles of combat seemed complimentary enough to be beneficial in a fight, so a bit of training being lost here and there in favor of other physical activity was not something Byleth felt too bothered by._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____The afternoon passed quickly enough, and as Byleth found herself wrapping up her first complete day’s training in what must have been over a month, she felt a strange, unpleasant churning in the pit of her stomach. Something just didn’t quite feel right._ _ _ _

____She shrugged, and wandered off towards her dorm to prepare for dinner. Perhaps some food would help settle her stomach. Low blood sugar was common enough after training, especially for Byleth as she had little incentive to eat beyond purely fueling herself to continue on_ _ _ _

____Dinner passed quickly, and Byleth saw the seat to her left which the knight had been occupying more evenings than not for the past few weeks left empty. The meal did little to help the sensation in her stomach. She must have seemed unwell, because Edelgard asked her if she felt ill. Byleth made a comment about a bad feeling in her gut, and the Hresvelg seemed to take it as either an acceptable answer or a sign to leave it well enough alone._ _ _ _

____She found the next day’s lecture passed the time quickly enough as she taught the students a technique on redirection of a charging opponent. Byleth even had a rather pleasant distraction after the class was over as Dorothea took time to discuss something she’d done during their last mission concerning magic and thrown weapons. It was an interesting idea, as the Professor couldn’t recall a use of magic and weaponry beyond some of the things Catherine had discussed about the Relics, but the thought of the blonde woman brought that sinking feeling into her get yet again, and it only grew worse when the class ate its supper without Catherine in attendance._ _ _ _

____After the following day, where physical training passed without any hint of the woman, and Byleth found the sensation in her stomach still harassing her to a nearly unbearable degree, the professor had had enough. She left the training grounds after the final round of sparring and hurried to her room before going to the bath and cleansing the sweat of her training off of her. After that she went to the Arena in search of Catherine. Sadly, Catherine was nowhere to be found there._ _ _ _

____Similar results were found at the fishing pond, the dining hall, and the Cathedral. Byleth couldn’t find a sign of her anywhere she had come to know as her usual haunts. Catherine hadn’t mentioned anything about a mission at their last training session prior to the Rite, and if there was an emergency dire enough to ship out her team it’d likely have made some kind of news around the school. What was going on? This was exhausting._ _ _ _

_____“I really must wonder if all young love is this infuriating, or if you simply are so cartoonishly incompitent as to make it especially exciting.” _Sothis taunted as Byleth checked the fishing pond again. The deity had become rather skilled at grating on Byleth’s nerves as of late.___ _ _ _

______“Damnit, must you really add to the fire right now?” she asked under her breath._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey, kid. You doing ok?” Byleth shifted quickly towards the voice, and saw Jeralt walking down the stairs from the dining hall._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m fine, sir. Just having some difficulty looking for Catherine. She isn’t anywhere I usually see her. Do you know if she’s out on a job?” Byleth asked, arms crossed in front of her. Jeralt gave her an odd look, his head cocked just a little to the side as his mouth shifted into a smirk. He looked as if he had just been told some inside joke._ _ _ _ _ _

______“No, Sir Catherine is not out on a mission, at least not one I sent her on. I’ve actually been meaning to check up on her as well. She wasn’t at morning training, and hasn’t been for several days. No one’s seen her since she was relieved of guarding Rhea after the Rite.” Jeralt’s look shifted from almost comedic to a bit more probing. “What exactly is your interest in her whereabouts, kiddo? I didn’t know the two of you were very friendly.” The question didn’t receive much reaction beside a light shrug._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’ve been helping her work on her brawling when I have time to spare from my students. She hasn’t been around much at all, and I had a bad feeling so I wanted to make sure she hadn’t gone and gotten herself killed. ” Jeralt seemed to find something funny about her response._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hmm, I imagine that... improvement must explain the good spirits she’s been in lately.” Jeralt pondered, although it seemed more like he was trying to convince himself of something. “Catherine’s quarters are in the knight’s pavilion, just off of campus and past the training grounds. Follow the path into the woods and it shouldn’t be too far down. Find the room with the blue door, and that’ll be hers.” There was a brief pause as she heard him sigh, and a second later Byleth felt the pressure of Jeralt’s hand resting on her shoulder. He smiled faintly but paused again, as if trying to find his words. “And Byleth… just be careful. There’s plenty of ways training can get someone hurt that don’t always seem obvious.” With that, he started back up the stairs. What he meant by that, Blyeth had no idea, but she wasn’t in much of a mood to ponder._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______The knight’s quarters were something akin to a massive maze of matching numbered doors, with a grand ornate stone entryway leading in. Each door had a name plate, and on it were inscribed several names, presumably of all who were occupying that particular room at that time. As Byleth moved deeper into the drab grey stone mausoleum of a building, she noticed the doors slowly becoming less frequent, with fewer names on the name plates. It took nearly half an hour of searching once she had made her way to the barracks, but she finally found what she was looking for. Down a hallway scattered with only a few variously colored doors, each with only one nameplate, sat a bright blue door with the words “Catherine Charon” on the small brass plate._ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth was a bit curious. She’d never known Catherine’s last name. She’d never thought to ask. She found the thought oddly distracting, and tried to clear her mind of it as she knocked. A tired voice hollered back at her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Shamir, for the last time, get fucked and leave me alone!” Byleth heard something hit the door with a soft thud. Clearly she was in a fantastic mood._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Charming, Catherine, very charming.” Byleth heard a heavy thud and some scrambling behind the door, and soon enough Catherine opened the door._ _ _ _ _ _

______The woman was a mess. Her hair was disheveled, even by Byleth’s standards, and her clothing at the moment consisted of an undershirt that seemed much too tight, not to Byleth’s complaint, and a pair of loose black cotton shorts that ended at her knees._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey, Byleth, listen I’m not gonna lie it’s kind of a bad time. I’m uh, feeling really sick. Do you think we could do a rain check?” Catherine asked, cocking a grin to one side. Byleth almost took the hook, but something seemed off. Wrong._ _ _ _ _ _

______First there was the rawness of the skin on her cheeks, on top of the way her eyes were bloodshot and underlined by heavy black bags. Byleth might’ve written that off as illness, but what finally gave it away was something in the way her grin just didn’t seem right. Her mouth twitched weakly at the corner that was pointing up. It never did that, not in the past two months she’d known this woman nor the entirety of their time they’d be seeing each other, or whatever it is that they were exactly doing._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re full of shit.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Listen, I’m just down with something, ok? I think I ate something rotten last night. That’s it.” Catherine’s shoulders tensed a bit as she spoke._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fine, but what’s your excuse for no one having seen you since the Rite?” Byleth asked._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I, I meant that night. I must’ve eaten something that gave me a bad bug, and it’s just taking a while to wear off.” Byleth almost felt insulted by how badly this woman was lying to her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Catherine, you ate dinner with my class that night. You and I ate the same food, from the same kitchen. If you’re going to feed me bullshit at least disguise it well. What is wrong?” The question did not come out as caring as one might have wanted it to._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Goddess sake, can you back off?” The exasperation in Catherine’s voice was thick like tar._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I will the second you stop acting like I'm a child and tell me why you’re locked in your room, crying.” Byleth shot back, earning a groan as the blonde finally relented._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Damn it all, fine! Can we not talk about this in the hallway?” Catherine whispered under her breath._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re the one blocking the door.” Byleth gestured at the tall woman, who was in fact blocking almost the entire doorway. Catherine looked a bit embarrassed, and were her cheeks not already red and raw she’d be blushing as she stepped aside. The Professor walked into her room and the knight quickly closed the door behind her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Listen, ok, I appreciate the concern but I’m fine. I really am. I just had a rough few days.” Catherine said, sitting on a cot that was slid up against the wall._ _ _ _ _ _

______The room was bare bones, barely half as large as Byleth’s own quarters, but with much less taking up space. There was the currently occupied cot, a shelf with a few scattered books, a small cupboard, and a countertop with a small water pump over a basin._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Catherine I mean this in the kindest way but you look like hell, I could tell that already. I want to know what happened.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I...I really do appreciate the concern, but It’s not something you’re gonna be able to help me with. Just drop it.” Catherine said, her voice growing soft. Byleth rubbed the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath._ _ _ _ _ _

______Catherine was looking down at the ground, trying not to look the blue haired woman in the eyes when she heard footsteps, and suddenly felt two calloused hands resting on her thighs. Soon enough those eyes she was avoiding were lowered down into a squat that left them staring at hers, dead on._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ok, see that we can work with. I’m not very versed in this type of thing, and I’m not going to try and ‘fix you’, but if you don’t wanna talk about this, then you’ve really got four options. Sleep, screw, drink or train it off. Because this crying in your bedroom thing clearly isn’t helping. Now I’m not leaving you alone like this. So let me at least try to help, pick one, and quit being such a stubborn ass.” Her monotone made it a rather intimidating order, with little room for disagreement. Then again Byleth’s tone made pretty much everything she said sound like that. Catherine made a sound half way between a snort and a chuckle, shaking her head and looking down farther._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re calling me stubborn? Has anyone ever told you about the pot and the kettle?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth grabbed her chin and pulled it back up, making the blonde look back into her eyes. “Catherine, please…” She felt the blonde’s jaw clench in her hand._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______“I think I’ll be fine, I just need a little sleep.” Catherine couldn’t muster the energy for much more than a whisper as she wiped something that was most definitely not a tear from her cheek with the palm of her hand. The rubbing and the salt made her raw skin even more agitated._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______“Good idea.” Byleth said as she stood. “I’m assuming you don’t want me hanging around while you rest, so I’ll be in my office. We can get a drink when you wake up If you would like.” Byleth said as she was about to turn and walk to the door, but Catherine reached out, grabbing her wrist and stopping her in her tracks._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Byleth...could you stay? Please?” When the professor turned back she saw something strange in Catherine’s eyes that she had never really seen there before, fear. Of what, Byleth had no idea, but whatever had her scared was likely part of the thing she’d been such a wreck over._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Of course.” Byleth said, as if she had no idea why anyone would say no. “ Come on, scoot over. I’m not sleeping on the damned floor.” Byleth waved her arms, shooing her training partner further on to the cot. Catherine laughed._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Didn’t seem to bother you in the arena.” Catherine couldn’t help be tease as she began laying back in her cot and scooting to the side. Byleth waved her off, sitting on the edge and slowly undoing the latches of her boots before kicking them off._ _ _ _ _ _

______“There was very little ‘sleeping’ involved then.” Byleth pointed out, laying down on her side beside the knight._ _ _ _ _ _

______Catherine was laid on her back, and felt quite wedged between he friend beside her and the wall her cot was up against. Was friend the right word? Coworker sure as all hell wasn’t. Sparring partner was accurate enough at first, but seemed lacking somehow. The dull ache that started in her shoulder drew her thoughts away from that however._ _ _ _ _ _

______She wondered about turning to her side, but hesitated. Turning towards Byleth may be a bit too...cozy, but turning away may seem like a rather cold thing to do after asking her to stay. She was screwed. After a while, Byleth’s breathing slowed and steadied, and Catherine figured she had fallen asleep. Soon she started to snore just a bit when she inhaled. She couldn’t help but find it cute, if a bit bothersome to her own trying to sleep. However the ache in her shoulder from being squashed against the wall was quite a bit more of a barrier than some snoring._ _ _ _ _ _

______Her dreadful debating was eventually put to an end however, as Byleth mumbled something to herself in her sleep and turned over, rolling onto her other side and laying her head against Catherine's chest. The knight in question went wide-eyed as she looked down at the large tuft of blue hair that now took up a large chunk of her field of view. Byleth’s change of position did however relieve a large amount of the pressure on her shoulder, and she managed to wiggled her arm loose from under the woman’s weight, having nowhere else to rest it but over her shoulder. The blue hair tickled her face a bit, and filled her nose with the scent of lavender and soil. Not that she was smelling Byleth’s hair, of course not, that’d be weird. But a girl did have to breathe, right?_ _ _ _ _ _

______Soon enough, sleep overtook her._ _ _ _ _ _

______Some time later, Byleth woke from her nap and felt Catherine’s chest rising and falling slowly beneath her head. She heard the slow rhythmic beating of the knight’s heart, and found it rather soothing. She closed her eyes and drifted back off to sleep, the corners of her lips curled up ever-so-slightly._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______After that afternoon, Catherine seemed relatively back to her usual self, and Byleth felt her life fall back into the routine that had developed over the last month and a half. Catherine started coming to the Eagle’s physical training days again, and her more personal ‘training’ sessions with the professor continued as if they’d never been interrupted._ _ _ _ _ _

______Catherine’s stories of her previous missions and her own time in the Academy returned to the Eagle’s table during their evening meals, and the student’s finally got to have a sparring partner who seemed to have some semblance of an emotional range. Ashe still didn’t talk much to her, and Catherine was not quite sure how to or whether she even should bring up what she had learned during the Rite, but she occasionally caught the quiet student staring at her during meals or training. She initially thought it was some sort of ogling, but whenever she caught Ashe in the act, the student’s expression looked more jealous than anything._ _ _ _ _ _

______After nearly 3 weeks the routine was interrupted by a request for a meeting with the Archbishop._ _ _ _ _ _

______Byleth and Edelgard waited patiently in the audience chambers, chatting amongst themselves until Rhea exited her office with Catherine alongside her. The knight walked towards the door and past the two of them, smiling at the professor and nodding to the head of house, who returned the nod politely but impersonally. As she left Byleth turned towards Rhea as she stood smiling that same warm smile that rather ironically only set Byleth on edge._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Thank you all so much for being here. I have received word from our allies in the Holy Kingdom that there’s been a most grave incident. A dishonored son of House Gautier, Miklan, has stolen the Relic of the House, the Lance of Ruin.” Rhea explained._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Why was he dishonored?” Edelgard asked, hand on her hip._ _ _ _ _ _

______“He was found to be without a Crest, and in line with the traditions of the nobility he was expelled from the family. In retaliation for this he has taken to banditry and vile heathenry. He and his ilk are to be eliminated and the Relic is to be retrieved.” Rhea explained, her smile never leaving her face._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Is there any possibility for maintaining some sort of peace? If we can retrieve the Relic without having to kill him, may we?” Edelgard felt her stomach churning at the thought of killing a man for pure and simply taking a weapon from the family that had disowned him. She already despised the church and it’s crests, but the thought of killing another person who had been harmed for it seemed vomit inducing. Her question seemed to strike a chord with Rhea, and the woman stepped forward, resting her hand on her shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _

______“My dearest child, that kindness will be a blessing in this cold world, but you can not allow it to make you naive. This man is a vile vermin, who has raided the communities around his bandit camp to keep his men in the lap of luxury. He must be purged from this world and given a chance to plead his innocence before the goddess.” Rhea said, and Byleth saw Edelgard’s shoulders relax. “Do you understand, young lady?” Edelgard nodded._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes, Lady Rhea.” She said quietly. Byleth was rather curious, as she couldn’t recal having heard Edelgard refer to the Archbishop so properly before. Rhea smiled and patted the girl’s head, and Byleth was impressed with her student’s discipline. She knew had she done something like that she likely wouldn’t have kept the hand she tried it with._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Wonderful. Lord Seteth has requested we send a small group of knight’s alongside you, and they will be meeting you at the gates of the Monastery at dawn the day after tomorrow. Ensure your class is prepared and bring these vile monsters to justice.” Byleth and Edelgard agreed and moved to leave._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re quiet.” Byleth said as they walked towards the classroom._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Again, rather ironic coming from you Professor.” Edelgard muttered back._ _ _ _ _ _

______“That makes it no less true.”._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well, there’s not much to say. I’ll inform the class that we’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow. Good day, professor.” Edelgard said walking off. Byleth sighed._ _ _ _ _ _

_______“She is the least of your worries. I am growing more and more concerned about Rhea. She sets me on edge unlike she ever has before.” _Sothis said as Byleth began walking towards her dorm.__ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I know what you’re talking about. Every time she looks at me I feel like a deer about to be pounced on by a wolf. What was she like before?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________“She was on the surface the same, warm and bristling with love for ‘all the goddesses children’,” _The last words dripped with a bitter sarcasm even Byleth couldn’t mistake. _“But she seems as if she is losing her grip on reality more and more every day. In the times before she’d grow more and more stable as time passed, but I still struggle to remember much as I try to think of later on during the year. I am rather concerned that something may be going terribly wrong.” ______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“What could be the cause?” Byleth asked, entering her room and allowing Sothis to project herself. The goddess sat on Byleth’s desk and continued on._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________“I have no idea. Nothing quite so radical has changed that I could see leading to her becoming this way. But then again I only see so far as you do, and as far as you did. There’s no telling what things happened in the background before that aren’t happening now. But be cautious Byleth.” _Sothis said, pointing at the woman as she began laying down on top of her bed.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I always am.” That seemed to draw a chuckle from Sothis as Byleth allowed herself the sweet mercy of an afternoon’s rest for once, not bogged down by reports or training schedules or research for a lecture. Simply resting._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She stared at the ceiling and thought of what she could do with her day tomorrow besides preparing her travel bag._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________“You could go and spend a bit of time with that knight woman you’re so fond of. However odd your version of ‘fond’ may be.” _Sothis offered. Byleth was always jarred by the fact the being could read her thoughts. _“Well, read is a rather strong word. It’s more as if they quickly rush past me and I just happen to, well, skim them.” ______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Either way, that may not be the best idea. Catherine and I had a rather...intense session this morning, so another ‘training’ session with her isn’t likely a good idea before a mission.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Hmmmm, so you are in fact capable of some logic. I’m impressed. What about tea with the Hresvelg girl?” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Maybe. But given how she was acting after the meeting, something seems to be on her mind. It might be a bad idea to bother her.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________“Or perhaps it’s the perfect time to bother her.” _Byleth did not like the tone in Sothis’s voice, nor the rather mischievous giggle she let out afterward.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“What exactly do you mean by that?” Byleth asked, Sothis merely laughed harder and disappeared into thin air. Byleth felt the weight of her presence in the back of her mind, but the way the goddess’s laughter seemed to flood her mind with a rather pleasant sensation distracted her from the question. It wasn’t like what she felt when she heard Edelgard laugh before. No that warmth was strange, rising as if from behind her sternum and through her whole body. This was more like sitting in the glow of a fire, and Byleth could tell it was merely Sothis’s own emotions flooding into her mind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Her mind turned back to the next day, and as she pondered on that she felt her eyes growing heavy, and before the sun had even set on Garreg Mach sleep managed to take her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________After she had left her meeting with Rhea, Catherine found herself leaned over a plate of food, scarfing down the frankly ridiculous portions of roasted meat and vegetables as the early-afternoon sun shone through the open doors of the dining hall into her eyes. She looked away, and instead focused on the food in front of her. She had almost finished when she heard heavy footsteps and soon after the sun glaring into her eyes was blocked by two men sitting down with food of their own. Catherine looked up and saw Fredrique and Joseph, two of the men in her command, both holding similar plates to what she was just finishing up. She swallowed what was in her mouth and grinned at her men._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Joseph was a slightly older guy, with a short black beard and matching hair that went rather well with his broader shoulders and heavier build. The black was clearly fading, and bits of grey gave him the salt-and-pepper look of a man who was beyond too tired to be damned with much of anything. Frederique on the other hand was a scrawny redheaded little punk. He was notorious for his skills with a bow, and besides that all he was good for was pissing Catherine off. The redhead grinned that same shit-eating grin he always did as he elbowed the man beside him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You see this shit, Joseph? She’s a fucking animal. Why don’t you take a second to breathe, for the Goddess’s sake.” Fredrique chided._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Shut the fuck up, Fredrique. Your face bugs me enough, your voice only makes it worse.” Catherine shot back through a mouth full of food. She had some manners but the disgusted look on the man's face was too priceless._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh go to hell, Catherine.” the redhead said, waving her off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh both of you calm down. You’re gonna give me food poisoning with all the shit talking you’re doing.” Joseph muttered, taking a bite of his food._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You’re such a buzzkill, Joe.” Fredrique said with a sigh, taking his own bite. “Listen, we got word for Captain Jeralt. Said he needs to see you about an assignment for us. Told us to find your dumb ass and send you his way and then go prep for a day or two away from here.” He shoveled another fork full of food into his mouth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Sounds good. Any excuse to avoid your uglyl face Fredrique.” Catherine said, quickly scarfing down the last of her meal. She stood, still chewing, and walked the plate over to the wash bin. She walked back, knocking her knuckles on the top of the table as she spoke. “Make sure your shit is packed by tonight. If they told you before they told me they likely want us rolling out at dawn tomorrow.” She reached down, plucking a large slice of meat off of Joseph’s plate and dropping it in her mouth. The older man could only sigh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Cmon Catherine, I ain’t even part of you and Freddies shit. Leave my food out of this.” He waved away her hand. “The hell has you so hungry anyway? I didn’t see you on the training field this morning.” Joseph said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I been training plenty today, you old dick.” Catherine said, covering her mouth as to not splatter him with his own food. She also thought better to not risk Joe catching a whiff of her breath that may hint at why exactly her jaw was so sore. “Now eat fast and pack your shit.” Catherine said, slapping Fredrique on the back of the head before leaving the dining hall and walking towards Jeralt’s office._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She took a deep breath as she walked up the stairs of the main faculty building, slowly moving towards her commanding officer’s door, and realized her hands were suddenly very clammy. This seemed beyond comical to her. She’d faced down entire camps of bandits alone without a moment’s hesitation or ounce of nerves, and yet Jeralt Eisner, her own boss made her shake like a leaf on a tree. It was just ridiculous._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________However as she pondered on it more she did think it an important piece of the puzzle that she hadn't been routinely sleeping with any of those bandit’s daughters. At least not to her knowledge. Finally, the door was before her and, with a weary sigh, she reached up and knocked.Upon hearing a firm “come in” from the other side, she entered the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Ah, Catherine. Perfect, just who I wanted to see. Have a seat.” Jeralt said, looking up from a map on his desk._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Yes, Sir Eisner.” Catherine said, sitting in one of the chairs stationed across from the Captain._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh, cut the formalities Catherine. I thought you of all people could appreciate that it’s just Jeralt.” He said, leaning back in his seat. As he did, Catherine noticed him resting his hands on his stomach the same way Byleth did when she would recline at her desk. Catherine figured she had to have learned it somewhere._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“If you say so.” Catherine said, trying to relax as best she could in her own chair. “What can I do for you, Jeralt? My men told me you had a job for us.” Jeralt nodded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Yes. I got a request from the archbishop to send a small group of knights along with a class of students to raid a nearby bandit camp. Initially they asked for the team under Earnst, but I’m substituting your team in instead.” Jeralt said, matter of factly. “You shouldn’t be away from the Monastery more than a day, two at the most. They’ll be meeting you at the front gates at dawn tomorrow.” Jeralt continued._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Sounds well enough. Bandits are an easy enough take down, but why send us if the Archbishop asked for Earnst’s team?” Catherine asked. Jeralt’s mouth quirked to the side in a soft smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“The class in question is the Black Eagle house. You’ve already worked a mission with them before, and if what I’ve heard is true you’ve been having some serious hands-on training with their professor and have been sparring with the class for several weeks. So you’ll have stronger rapport with them than Earnst would. That’s important on a combat mission like this. Why? Is there a reason I should think better than to send you on this mission?” Jeralt asked, quirking an accusatory brow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“No, you seem to have it down pat. It makes perfect sense, sir.” Catherine said, sitting up like a bolt as she felt her palms get sweaty again and her mouth fired off rapidly. Jeralt nodded, his smile still in place. Catherine had practically felt her heart stop at the words ‘hands-on’ when they’d come out of the Captain’s mouth, and felt herself sweating bullets._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Good, I’m glad you agree. Pack your things and be ready by dawn.” Jeralt said, gesturing to his paperwork as if to indicate he had better things to do. Catherine stood and walked quickly out the door without even being dismissed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Jeralt was left in his office, alone. He reclined a bit farther back in his chair, resting his boots on the table as he thought to himself. While his daughter may be hard to read, Catherine practically had ‘guilty’ written on her face in bright green paint. A sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, developing a rather bothersome headache. He supposed there were worse things his daughter could be doing, but that didn’t mean this wasn’t likely going to turn into a huge pain in his ass._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, shout out To my homie Theunqualified_1 for letting me bombard her tumblr dms while I talk through the bonkers ass plot I have brewing, and thanks to y’all for reading! 
> 
> I have a question for y’all. I’ve been recieving some feedback from a few people that they feel like the updates are a little bit big to read in one sitting, and the bigger updates do sometimes feel strenuous on me for proofreading, but I also wanna make sure I’m putting out good content that’s enjoyable to read. So, with my update schedule, would you prefer smaller updates (like, 7-10 pages) twice a week, or just keep with the weekly drops of around 15-30?
> 
> Also, holy hell it was awkward trying to proofread this chapter. Like the intro was ridiculous cus I had to walk the line between making it that dream-like fantasy without turning it into outright ridiculousness and I straight up almost cut the whole thing.
> 
> Also! If you wanna, I have a tumblr account under the same username as I am on here where I post lots of gay shit and occasionally lil hints about upcoming plotlines.


	11. Chapter 11: Skin and Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one mission go so very, very wrong so quickly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So sorry for the late update. This week has been a KILLER to my productivity with finals preparing to rev up. But I hope you all enjoy this weeks chapter!

Heavy rain fell down on top of the mass of students and armored knights gathered at the gate. Edelgard, along with Hubert and Ferdinand, stood by Bernadetta chatting as happily as could be expected. Ashe was tucked away towards the wall that surrounded Garreg Mach, sat on the heavy concrete base along with Leonie as the two were sharpening and polishing their weapons. Catherine was instructing her men between idle chit chat with two men that Byleth seemed to remember being told were named Fredrique and Joseph, however she didn’t know which was which. 

“Nikita! I swear to the goddess if I have to tell you to stop harassing the pack horses one more time I’m gonna cut your ass off and make you wear it like a hat!” Catherine’s threat earned a chuckle from the two men as a very terrified-looking young squire stepped away from one of the animals.“Oh, the hell is so funny?” she asked the two, hand on her hip. 

“Nothing, boss. You’re just always a crabby bitch at the start of a mission. It’s one of the things we love about you.” Fredrique said. 

“Watch it, Freddy.” Catherine said, eyes narrowing at the red head. 

“Oh, you’re full of it. I could take you any day of the week.” He said, waving her off. 

“Well I guess I’m lucky it’s sunday.” The shit eating grin on Catherine’s face as she stepped toward Fredrique was matched by the shorter man, and the two raised their fists as they stepped towards each other. Joseph quickly moved between them, practically holding them apart at arms length. 

“Come on, jackasses. Let’s not send one or both of you to Manuela before the mission even starts.” The old man said, pushing the two apart. 

“I couldn’t agree more.” Byleth said, catching Catherine as she stumbled back. The wide grin on Catherine’s face as she wheeled around gave both of the men under her command pause as they looked at eachother. “Good morning, Catherine.”

“Hey, Byleth. Good to see you actually showed up on time for once.” Catherine said, relaxing her shoulders a bit. 

“I have been late to one mission, and that was well beyond my control. So I’d advise you to watch your accusations.” Byleth said, shoving the women in the shoulder and earning a laugh from the blonde as she lightly knocked the hand away.

“Yes ma’am, whatever you say.” Catherine mocked. 

Fredrique nudged Joseph with his elbow, his usual grin even wider as he nodded towards the two women. 

“Leave it alone. Cat’s personal life is none of our business if she doesn’t want to make it our business.” Joseph muttered under his breath. 

“I didn’t say shit, Joe. But I've been telling you she was getting some for a while now, ain’t I? That’s the only explanation for her not being so bitchy lately. She ain’t been this smiley since Shamir and her broke it off.” 

“Goddess, you need to learn when to shut up. What part of ‘her business until she makes it ours’ do you not seem to grasp?” The two shut up quickly as Byleth and Catherine ended their conversation and a young woman with white hair and red tights approached the two. 

“Professor, Catherine, I hope you’re having a pleasant morning.” Edelgard said, standing in front of the small pack of knights and her professor. “as much as possible given the conditions, I suppose. Everyone is ready and accounted for regarding the Black Eagles. We’re set to depart on your order.” Catherine chuckled and gave an approving nod. 

“Hey looks like you got your shit in shape this time around, kid. If you keep this up maybe we’ll escape this with a minimum of crushed limbs.” Her taunts earned a rather dramatic eye roll from the young woman. 

“Perhaps if you learn to keep your boots to yourself, you wouldn’t end up with such injuries.” Edelgard shot back. That was enough to pull a chuckle from Fredrique, which in turn earned a glare from Catherine. 

“Freddy, shut up or I’ll put you on stable duty for a month.” She turned back to Edelgard, but whatever witty retort she had in store was cut off by the Professor. 

“Thank you Edelgard, please tell your classmates that we’ll be leaving shortly. Catherine, are your men ready?” Byleth had one arm holding her bag over her shoulder as the other hand had a thumb looped into her belt. Catherine sighed at being cut off, but nodded. 

“Yup, a few of them could use a good ass whooping, but they’ll get that in spades later. Whether on the mission or afterwards I’m not sure, but it’s coming.” Catherine then turned to her men and the students, hollering at the top of her voice. “We’re moving out!!” 

“Well, Edelged, I guess you can forget that previous order.” Byleth said under her breath, earning a chuckle from the young lady in question as the mass of armored knights, robed spellcasters, and uniformed students began to move out the gate. Byleth and Catherine took lead, along with Dorothea who surprisingly had left her spot beside Petra and Bernadetta, both of whom stood with Hubert, Edelgard and the rest of the class towards the middle of the pack. Leonie and Ashe were deep in conversation, and Ashe actually seemed to laugh at something Leonie was saying.

“I’m just saying, you absolutely could survive jumping off the side off a cliff.” Leonie was leaving no room for argument, but that didn’t stop Ashe. 

“Not a chance!” Ashe shot back, exasperated. “You’re diving hundreds of feet to the ground! How is that ever survivable!?” 

“Well, I never said it was some super tall cliff! Like the cliffside towards the south of Garreg Mach is barely a hundred feet.” Leonie said, as if she’d pulled some grand ‘gotcha’. 

“That’s barely a cliff! It’s a tall ledge, at best.” 

“Oh come on, It’s a cliff! You’re just being nitpicky. Besides, it also drops straight into the river. You’d be fine!” Leonie pointed at the silver-haired Duran. 

“So even if you do survive the fall you’re going to drown!” Ashe was trying to decide whether to be more aggravated or amused. 

“Ugh, you sound just like Hubert.” Leonie rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“Just because I’m pointing out the massive hole in your idea doesn’t make me a huge spoilsport like Hubert!” Ashe was beyond offended. A loud ‘ahem’ could be heard as a certain Vestra cleared his throat from his position standing what couldn’t be more than 10 feet behind his two classmates. Both of whom went wide eyed, looking at each other as they tried and failed to hold back their laughter. 

As time passed, Byleth and Dorothea wandered over closer to the middle of the group to discuss the plan for the rest of the mission with Edelgard. This left Catherine walking alone for nearly an hour before the heavy beating of a Wyvern’s wings could be heard above. A moment later and the beast swooped down, dropping its rider gracefully before returning back to its position in the sky. The rider in question was a tall blue-haired woman clad in a green jacket with a bow over her shoulder. She took a spot beside Catherine, who smiled and clapped the archer on the shoulder. 

“As graceful as ever, Shamir. Got anything to report?” The woman stepped away slightly. 

“The next town we hit will be one of the closer ones to the target. We should get there in before nightfall. There looks to be an inn that may prove useful for the night, but I doubt it’ll be enough to house all of us. Between here and there the roads look clear. You can relax, Catherine.” Shamir said, wiping the blonde’s hand away from her shoulder. 

“I’m plenty relaxed, but I still want to be careful. After getting jumped by those noble sellswords a few weeks back and getting ambushed last month, not to mention what happened during Byleth’s kid’s first mission, it seems like we’ve been seeing ambush after ambush after ambush. I don’t like it. I just want to make sure we can at least get where we’re going before we have to kill someone.” That explanation and a shrug was all Catherine could really muster. 

“Hmmm, understandable. But don’t let your caution put you into a heart attack before you even get to fight.” Catherine rolled her eyes, at least on Byleth the “cold and emotionless” bit was cute. At one point, it’d been cute on Shamir as well. Although Catherine started to realize, given her history, she may have a type. “Also, you seem to be on rather good terms with Professor Eisner. Oh, I mean ‘Byleth’.” Her expression shifted from blank into a clear smirk, and yet again the knight rolled her eyes. 

“You know me, Shamir, I ain’t one for formalities. This isn’t my first time working with the Eagles, so what’s the point?” Catherine gave a shrug, looking away as to avoid the woman’s eyes. 

“I’d hope I know you. Damn near half a decade of working with you, ignoring everything else, and I’d have to question my abilities as a scout if I hadn’t learned something about you.” Shamir twirled an arrow as she spoke. She had quite a few things she’d noticed, especially recently, but knew it was best to leave well enough alone. As nasty as the ending of their ‘partnership’ had been, in the past year or so they’d managed to find a good balance that allowed them to remain friends, and she thought better than to press that further or torture herself by prying into Catherine’s life. She’d made it rather clear, painfully so in fact, that she wanted Shamir far far away from that.

After another several hours of long marching through the heavy wooded paths and trails, they finally made it to the town Shamir had spotted during her scouting. It was one of the several larger villages that surrounded the valley which was said to house the bandits they were pursuing. While it seemed rather peaceful, the few people that were out milling about the town made Catherine uneasy. Even with it getting dark, a village this large should be more active. The party made its way towards the inn at the opposite edge of town. 

Once there, Catherine and Shamir managed to barter their way into a set of rooms. It was a small inn so even with buying all of the rooms there, that was only enough beds for about half of them. They decided to divy it up as best they could, and many of them decided to sleep on the floor. The boys of the Black Eagles took one room and the girls took another. Everyone began moving to their allotted space. Some, like Shamir, Edelgard, Catherine, and strangely enough Ashe decided to sleep outside. 

After taking the time to build a small camp beside the stables, Shamir, Edelgard, Ashe and Catherine all sat around a campfire together as they picked at plates of food they'd been given by the innkeeper. Each one of them sat on a tree stump at a corner of the fire pit, Shamir to the north, Edelgard south, with Catherine and Ashe making up East and West. It was quiet, awkwardly so, and the students were trying to make small talk as they ate. 

“Ashe, could I ask some advice, related to wyvern training?” Edelgard asked before popping a slice of potato into her mouth. 

“Oh, um... I guess? I may not be the best of advisors, however. I’ve been having trouble keeping my balance when I’m actually in the air.” Ashe knew her embarrassment must be rather blatant as she felt a blush creep up her cheeks. 

“Well that is a problem. I’ve been having much of the same issue. I can’t stay stable enough to actually stay on when swinging my axe.” Edelgard thought back to her several tumbles into the dirt. 

“How are you holding on? With your heels, your knees?” Catherine was looking up from her plate, glancing between the two students. Oddly enough it was Ashe who spoke first. 

“...I dig in with my heels. I can’t get a good grip with my knees.” Ashe mumbled quietly, refusing to meet Catherine’s eyes. 

“I hold on with my knees, I find that my heels don’t have enough grip to hold me on.”

“That’s your problem. It’s not one or the other, you need to be doing both. You gotta dig in with your knees and then stabilize yourself with your heels. Right Shamir?” The archer nodded quietly.

“It’s accurate enough, at least for entry level. Once you get a bit more experience you can learn a litany of new ways to ride a mount.” The quiet woman mumbled as she took a bite of whatever meat was on her plate.

Edelgard raised an eyebrow in curiosity at Catherine. 

“How exactly did you know that?” She asked. 

“Ah, well Shamir showed me how to ride on her Wyvern. Must have been the year before last. Guess I managed to hold onto some of the lesson, haha. She made me sit on that thing's neck for hours, just clinging to it while it tried to buck me off. It was absolute hell.” 

“No worse than you deserved.” Shamir’s face was plastered in a smirk as she recalled that memory. “It’s strange to get used to, but once you figure it out it’s easy enough to stay on.” she explained. 

“I know Shamir is pretty busy now-a-days. So, if you’d both want, I can talk to your professor and see if she’d ok me to give you the crash course Shamir gave me, and then once you get that I can see about bullying her into helping you out more.” Caterine offered. A nod from Edelgard along with a contemplative ‘hmmm’ was all the reaction the young Hresvelg supplied. 

“Thank you for that, Sir Catherine, Sir Shamir.” Ashe mumbled. Catherine almost by instinct corrected the title, but thought better of it. Ashe could be calling her much worse at this point, and she couldn’t say she didn’t deserve it. All she could muster was a weak mumbled ‘yeah, sure, of course’. 

Another few minutes passed in silence, until Catherine spoke up again, finishing up the last of her plate. 

“Hey, princess, you like sweets?” Catherine asked, turning to Edelgard. 

“Please don’t call me that. But yes, I enjoy the occasional sweetbread or candy.” This drew a suppressed chuckle from Ashe. 

“‘Occasional’? Edelgard you could devour the most efficient bakery out of house and home.” Edelgard turned to Ashe, betrayal painted across her face. This only received another quiet laugh. “Sorry, Edelegard. But you know it’s true.” 

“Ok you two, don’t make me get your professor to break up your little cat fight. Here, princess. It’s not my kinda thing.” A dense chunk of blueberry pastry dropped onto Edelgard’s plate as Catherine spoke. “I didn’t take a bite out of it or nothing.” 

“Oh um, thank you…” Edelgard replied tentatively as she bit into the pastry. It was a bit stale, but still good.

“No problem. Hey, Shamir, Ashe, you done with your plates?” The student and archer both nodded and handed their dishes off. Edelgard handed hers off as well and simply continued eating the pastry in her hand. 

As the fire dwindled down, slowly they each left for their own tents. Catherine was the first to do so, followed a short while later by Shamir. That left just Ashe and Edelgard by themselves. The two were staring into the fire, lost in their own thoughts, for a long while before Edelgard finally gave in to her own curiosity. 

“Ashe, Why did you decide to camp out here?” Her classmate looked up quickly, as if the question had stung like a wasp. 

“W...what do you mean? There’s only so much room in the inn, you know.” 

“Well, yes, but there should be several more open places in the boys quarters than the girls. You could have slept inside and saved yourself the hassle of pitching a tent.” Edelgard wouldn’t have pushed the subject, were her classmate not so clearly bothered by it. 

Ashe’s mind was awash in nerves as the poor girl tried her best to find some sort of believable explanation. Well, the explanation wasn’t so much what she was looking for except the energy to say it. She’d had one planned from the moment she set out to sleep here that night, a lie about claustrophobia and not wanting to risk one of Caspars infamous farts, but it now felt so very, very tedious to keep it up. It would be so much simpler just to admit that she wasn’t sleeping in the boy’s quarters because she simply wasn’t one. But that answer would only raise more questions, and the past few weeks had already drained her so beyond belief, beyond even her highest expectations of herself, that she just couldn’t be bothered to deal with that potential fallout. 

“I just...don’t like sleeping close to others.” Ashe’s mumbled reply was barely loud enough for Edelgard to hear, but she seemed to hear and accept it without a second thought. Or at least not one that displayed itself across her face. 

Byleth was laid out on the floor of one of the several rooms their party had rented. Currently it was also occupied by Bernadetta, Dorothea, Petra and Leonie. The professor had laid her bedroll out on the rough wooden floor and dropped down onto it without a care, leaning her back against the wall. 

Bernadetta and Petra had laid claim to one bed leaving Dorothea and Leonie to split the second. The songstress wore a smirk as she watched the professor, who was currently in the process of preparing to sleep. 

“So, professor, I’ve noticed you and Edie have been spending an awful lot of time together recently. I guess it’s safe to say you two are on... better terms?” Dorothea asked, her smile morphing into a simulacrum of innocent curiosity as she swung her legs listlessly over the edge of the bed. Byleth undid the armor on her shoulders and shrugged. 

“Edelgard and I are much less at odds as of late than at the start of this year, yes.” Byleth slid her tunic off, leaving the pants and undershirt in place to serve as some form of night-clothes. She may lack some social grace but she wasn’t so dense. 

Dorothea was rather disappointed at that answer, as if she’d thought that Byleth would proclaim herself as devoutly in love from the moment she laid eyes on the empress-to-be, like one of the romances she’d put on during her time in the Opera. Sadly, life very rarely seemed so exciting and dramatic. But, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a bit of fun watching how exactly this all would play out. 

She almost couldn’t contain herself when she noticed a rather obvious bite-mark on the professor's neck. It was right where it met her shoulder, clear bruising visible all around the edges. Perhaps it was a bit evil of her, but that was just too tempting not to push. A girl has to make her own fun somehow on these missions, doesn’t she?

“Why, professor, what a large bruise!” Dorothea exclaimed, her shock exaggerated greatly. “Wait, are those...teeth marks!?” Her acting skills were truly put to the test as she feigned not knowing exactly what the mark was. Byleth reached her hand up instinctively, rubbing her neck and covering the mark. 

“Damn, Professor, the hell kind of beast did you get into a fight with to get that kinda mark?” Leonie asked, sitting up in her bed. 

“That bite looked human, not a beast.” Petra noted from her spot beside Bernadetta. 

“It’s nothing. Just something from a training accident earlier this week. Now, it’s getting rather late. Unless you intend to fight tomorrow sleep deprived, it’s time to rest.” Byleth said, her tone making the unspoken ‘now drop it’ plainly clear. Dorothea tried to hold back a giggle, and from the corner of her eye she saw Petra chuckle a bit to herself. The purple haired woman gave her a much-too-knowing smirk, and Dorothea felt her heart skip a beat. Petra’s acting could use some work, but her looks were matched by no one else. 

One thing was certain, Dorothea absolutely could not wait for her next tea-time with Manuela. 

Edelgard packed her tent the next morning, bags deep under her eyes and her body aching with lack of sleep. Her dreams had yet again been interrupted, rather obnoxiously. However last night, as with several other nights over the past few weeks, had not been interrupted with images of iron bars and mossy stone cells, but with heart racing images of less-than-proper interactions between herself and the Professor. 

Edelgard had concluded that the dreams were little more than her brain still being traumatized by her having walked in on her instructor’s ‘sparring session’ with Catherine. That was all. Simple manifestations of her mind trying to make sense of something that to her had made so little. 

She was not some coddled flower with regards to sexuality. The Hresvelg library was large and well filled, and there was plenty of fiction as well as non fiction throughout it. Among that fiction was plenty of less wholesome works, mostly browsed by the young women on staff during breaks. She’d read a few in the year leading up to her time at the Academy, to the point they struck her as rather boring. You could only read so many poorly worded stories of noblemen accosting their maids or some other trite nonsense before it started to bore you, even if Edelgard couldn’t quite remember a time it didn’t bore her. 

That explained why it had been so shocking to her when she walked in on them, why she had taken so long to come to her senses and look away. The idea of two women doing something like that just simply hadn’t crossed her mind. That had to be it. That was the only possible explanation. 

However that did leave some questions unanswered. Like the strange mixture of anger and fear that bubbled up into her stomach whenever she saw Catherine and Byleth speaking to each other. Perhaps that was simply her being aggravated at the two for having been so foolish? But there was also the way she found herself distracted during the physical training lessons when she would hear one of the two women make an especially loud grunt, or see the way their athletic wear clung to their sweat-soaked forms. She could remember several times she had taken rather precarious spills into the dirt after getting distracted in the middle of a round. Petra seemed especially skilled and hitting when she was distracted. 

But there was time later to find the, what Edelgard was sure would be annoyingly simple, answer to that conundrum. The heiress sighed to herself as she finished packing, and moved to join the class on the way to the road.

She ran up, alongside Dorothea and the Professor as they were standing toward the front of the group. 

“Good morning Professor, Dorothea.” Edelgard said, acknowledging the both of them. 

“Hi, Edie.” Dorothea said with a smile. Byleth nodded to the white haired girl. 

“Edelgard, are you feeling well? You look rather sickly.” Byleth asked, concerned. 

“Professor! That is so rude!” Dorothea accosted, slapping her in the arm and earning a sharp ‘Ow!’ from the blue-haired educator. 

“No, Dorothea, I don’t think she meant it like that. I’m fine, Professor, just had some trouble sleeping. I’m fit to continue on.” Edelgard received yet another nod. 

“I’m glad to hear it. Now, I will need to discuss the plan of attack with the knights, can I trust you two to make sure your classmates are prepared for today’s march?” Byleth asked, receiving an affirmation from both of the young women. Edelgard’s oh-so-subtle glare as Byleth approached Shamir and Catherine was not lost on her classmate. 

“So, Edie, what gave you so much trouble last night?” Dorothea asked, casually. Edelgard looked off into the distance, trying not to think about the actual answer for fear of something like a blush giving her away. Dorothea was an annoyingly good reader of body language. 

“Nothing. Just troubled dreams and a rocky patch of dirt I was laid on top of.” Edelgard replied, trying to match Dorothea’s tone. The songstress hummed to herself as they walked, and Edelgard took note. 

“What about you? You seem in a rather chipper mood this morning.” The songstress smiled. 

“I am, in fact. Bernadetta and I had a bit of a chat earlier and have some fun plans once we get home, to the Monastery that is.” 

“Do tell.” Edelgard prodded, figuring that if Dorothea was speaking about her own life she’d stop prying into Edelgard’s. 

“Oh! We are planning on going into the town once we get back from this mission! We’re gonna track down some ingredients from Brigid so we can cook up something for Petra. It’s getting close to the anniversary of when she first came to Fodlan, and she’s been a bit...homesick, as of late. So we’re hoping it’ll cheer her up.” Dorothea’s own cheeks grew a bit red, and while Edelgard found the songstress annoying at times, her smile was infectious and soon enough a matching one was on her own face. However, it was wiped off of her face when she heard the rather obnoxious laughter of Thunder Catherine boom through the party. When she saw the blonde woman in question clapping the Professor over the shoulder, hugging her from the side in a way anyone else would see as comradely, Edelgard’s expression became a dull glower.

Dorothea noticed Edelgard’s soured expression, and followed her eyes to the professor and the knight, looking back between them confusedly. It felt like she was missing a rather large piece of this equation, but then again that was usually the case watching some social drama such as this play out. The mystery was half the fun. 

A few hours later, the front door of the hulking black tower they had been sent to clear out was kicked in, and through it poured the mass of silver-clad knights and black-clad students that made up the raiding party. The bandits, thanks to a swift pair of shots from a Wyvern-mounted Shamir, had had no warning from their main lookouts. So, when the horde of strangers poured in they were taken completely by surprise. 

Catherine ran towards several bandits who were sat down eating, leaping over the table and smashing her boot heel into the side of one man’s face before turning the table over onto the two who had been sat across from him. She buried her sword into the chest of the man under her boot, and a pair of arrows took care of the two who were now trying to crawl out from under the table. Catherine looked over and saw Petra and Bernadetta,the both of them already loading another set of arrows.

Petra turned and, without hesitation, sent an arrow flying at a bandit who’s dagger was aimed at Dorothea’s back. The man dropped like a sack of potatoes, and Dorothea blew her a kiss as a ‘thank you’ before turning and sending a blast of lightning into another oncoming bandits chest. 

Bernadetta, on the other hand, sent her arrow into the side of a bandits throat as he was running, sword raised, towards Edelgard. The white-haired woman shoved the man away as he fell towards her,gasping on his own blood. She turned around to swing her axe into the side of a bandits throat who was fleeing from Ferdinand, and the head flew clean off of his neck. Landing a few feet away with a dull ‘thwak’. 

Ferdinand drove his lance into the leg of another bandit that was fleeing into the room they currently occupied. The target in question fell and screamed as Ferdinand buried the spear into his back, quickly going silent. 

Another man fled from the dark doorway Ferdinand’s kill had just come from, only to be yanked back through it. A few loud crunches could be heard, and from that doorway came a bloody-knuckled Byleth Eisner, her face splattered in gore and viscera but as blank and unreadable as ever. Behind her came Joseph and Fredrique of the Knights of Seiros, as well as Ashe, Hubert, and Leonie. Several students began to relax, seeing no one approaching from behind their professor while the bandits who had occupied the current room all seemed well and truly dead. Ferdiniand cheered, raising his lance as he walked towards Byleth.

“Professor! Truly a brilliant plan! Coming from the front and back entrance ensured they had no idea what was happening until they were already dead!” Ferdinand said, clapping Byleth on the shoulder. He was so distracted that he had no idea what was happening until the arrow slammed into his back. 

Ferdinand dropped to the ground, screaming in pain as the class was hit with a flood of bandits from the entrance they had poured through mear moments ago. Each bandit was carrying a bow and covered in dead animals, rabbits and birds and even a few deer adorning their clothes or having been slung over their shoulders. A hail of arrows poured down onto the knights and students, and before they could even consider the option, another voley came from the room Byleth had exited seconds ago. 

“Move your asses! Up, NOW!” Catherine ordered, and the entire mob moved up the staircase. Another volley of arrows came at them, and Byleth heard several grunts, screams, and growls of pain. She threw Ferdinand over her shoulder, grabbing his lance in her hand and running up the stairs after her students. Hubert was staring at her, or more precisely at Ferdinand, and nearly took an arrow to the chest had Byleth not shoved him farther up the staircase, taking the arrow in her bicep. 

“Move, Hubert.” Byleth commanded quietly, and through grit teeth. For what must have been the first time the entire academic year, the boy listened without argument. Byleth leapt over the corpse of a knight who’d fallen to a lightning bolt and joined the rest of the class as it moved into the second floor, continuing up into the next flight of stairs. 

A small splinter of bandits were coming down from the third floor, and all of them were felled quickly. One died to a Thoron blast from Dorothea, while Catherine lodged her blade into another one’s chest. The third took Ashe’s axe to his unprotected temple, and fell with a thud tripping one or two of the people that followed behind. They continued moving up the stairs, into the third floor. 

As they reached the entrance to the third floor, Ashe had ended up beside Catherine at the front of the charge. The staircase grew narrower with every floor higher, and it was barely able to accomodate the both of them when they got to the door. When the bandit came around the corner, axe bared and already in the middle of a swing, Ashe fumbled, trying to prepare her defense against the strike, when Catherine’s hand could be felt on the student’s chest, shoving backwards as she charged forward, her gauntlet-clad arm raised trying to block the axe. The armor did most of its job, but that did not stop the blade from slicing into her unprotected bicep and a large chunk of her left cheek. She kept charging forward, slamming her elbow into the man’s chest and smashing him against a nearby wall. Her fist careened into his jaw, sending him to the floor limp. Ashe reached the top of the stairs, seeing the significant bleeding from Catherine’s arm and face, and stood in shock for a moment only to be shoved aside by the mass of people still trying to climb the stairs. Catherine grabbed the student by the lapel and the two moved back into the mass of Monastery fighters. 

“Come on, kid! You’re not dying on my watch!” Catherine’s voice was mostly drowned out by the chaos around them, but Ashe still heard it. They continued running, until finally they had made it up into the stairs leading up to the top floor of the horrible black tower. 

They emerged out of the final staircase, and Dorothea launched a massive blast of flames back down at the bandits chasing behind them while Edelgard pushed her shoulder into the side of a massive bookshelf beside the door. The princess tried again, slamming into the side of the shelf and causing it to wiggle, but it wouldn’t fall over. Edelgard felt someone move in behind her, and turned to see Catherine, armor dented and the left side of her face covered in blood, behind her. 

“On three! One, Two, THREE!” Catherine ordered, and together they pushed, knocking the bookcase over and into the door, slamming it shut and blocking the route inside. Catherine panted desperately, as did Edelgard. “Good job.... princess...Now let’s get moving.” Catherine’s words came out in between her rapid breaths. She stood a second later, pulling Thunderbrand from its scabbard and moving over to assess her remaining knights. “Freddy, Joe, are you two ok?” 

“I’m fine, Catherine. Don’t worry about me.” Joseph said, his hammer covered in blood to the point it was dripping off. There was a large arrow sticking from the muscle of his shoulder, and he didn’t seem to notice so Catherine didn't like the idea of bringing it up.

“Yeah, boss, I’m right as rain. You, however, look like hell.” Fredrique said, counting the arrows left in the quiver tied to his hip. 

“Yeah, well, I’m no uglier than you on a good day so I still got that goin for me.” Catherine’s joke earned a chuckle from Joseph. 

“That’s not a very high bar to set, Cat.” The giant of a man replied. 

“Hey, fuck you too Joe.” Fredrique’s gripping fell on deaf ears as Byleth passed by and Catherine spun around, resting her hand on the professor’s shoulder, the one that wasn’t currently carrying a student.

“Hey, Byleth, you holding up alright?” The professor nodded. 

“I’m fine. A few wounds from an arrow or stray sword I wasn’t able to dodge, but our medics should be able to take care of it. How are your men?” Byleth asked. 

“The ones that are left standing will be fine. Let’s just get this over with.” Catherine said with a chuckle, and she swore she could hear a quick exhale from Byleth that almost sounded like one of her own. Had she actually made her laugh?

“I agree. Just make sure to watch your ass. Drinks on me when we make it back to the monastery, but I’m not wasting money to buy a shot for your corpse.” Whether it was what Byleth said or the fact the knight thought she’d made the stoic professor laugh that was making her grin like an idiot was a question that never would get an answer. 

“I’ll hold you to that!” Catherine said, running back to her men as Byleth checked on her students. Edelgard was still leaning against the heavy book case, the angry mass of men behind the door it was blocking could do little to budge the massive wooden structure. The Professor laid Ferdinand onto the ground beside the head of house. 

“Dorothea! Linhardt!” she called, and the two promptly ran to her. “I need to you be ready to heal him in just a moment.” They both nodded. Byleth turned to Ferdinand and slapped his cheek, bringing him back to some sense. “Ferdinand, this is going to hurt. I need you to try not to move, ok?” The boy nodded weakly. Byleth turned to Dorothea. “Grab me an arrow from Petra, or Bernadetta, anyone just make sure it’s wood.” Dorothea did as she was told, and Byleth took a moment to break off the arrow head before forcing the wooden section between Ferdinand’s teeth from the side. “Bite down on this.” He did, and Byleth shook her head, checking the wound. It had lodged into his shoulder, thankfully having gone along the bone as opposed to through it. But that still meant this was going to hurt like hell. She couldn’t pull the arrow out, without risking absolutely shredding the muscle, so she had one choice. 

She broke off the tail of the arrow and, with the palm of her hand, pushed the rest forward until the arrowhead broke through the skin again several inches from where it had entered. Ferdinand screamed in pain as she finally pulled the arrow out by the bloody tip, signalling for the healers who moved quickly to him. 

“Heal him and move to the others. We don’t know how long we have before we’ll need to fight.” 

“Not that long.” The comment was more akin to an exhausted proclamation from Edelgard as she pointed to several bandits rounding the corner at the end of the long hallway they were now standing at the entrance to. 

“Damn.” Catherine sighed, hefting her blade. 

“Edelgard, Catherine, Petra, Leonie, Ashe! Let’s move!” Byleth ordered, and the small group charged ahead, making quick work of defeating the small party of bandits that had come their way.After a while, the rest of the group joined them. The party moved down the hall, rounding corner after corner and slaughtering bandit after bandit as they approached closer to the main foyer. Throughout it all, Ashe never left Catherine’s side. 

They reached the end of the long spiraling hall, and approached the large central chamber which housed the relic-wielding former lord at the center of the tower. The tall red-haired man couldn’t more clearly be their target, Miklan. His hair was unmistakably the same fiery red as his brother, their classmate Sylvain. He held his spear at the ready, a large glowing stone lodged in its head. 

“So! You’re the filthy assassins sent after me and my men! They sent mere children to do their dirty work did they? I’d have known.” Miklan’s voice, which started as a brave booming shout slowly faded into the contemplation of a man too tired for his youth., surrounded by several men in various levels of armor, each with weapons at the ready. His shoulders moved as he took in a deep breath, heaving a sigh before continuing on.“Then come and take us, unholy swine! I would find it an honor to die alongside any one of these men in pursuit of a just peace!” Miklan yelled, charging forward with his spear aimed directly for Catherine’s heart. Just as that happened, they heard men charging behind them, and it became apparent somehow they’d moved the bookshelf from the door. 

Byleth smashed the spear tip aside, swinging her foot out and catching Miklan’s jaw with the toe of her boot. Catherine returned the favor by swinging her sword over the now-crouching professor and slashing at another charging warrior. 

Ferdinand struggled to push a sword-wielding bandit away, his shoulder still barely patched together. He managed to duck a swipe and retaliated with one of his own, but barely nicked the bandits forearm. Ducking another attack, he saw Caspar running up behind the bandit. A grin crossed the red-haired noble’s face as he began stepping back and sending his foot forward, kicking his assailant right into the path of Caspars axe blade. 

“Behind you!” Caspar yelled as he pulled his blade from the dead man’s neck. Ferdinand spun, readying a defense for an attack that never came. As the bandit Caspar had warned of drew close, a massive ball of shifting dark energy slammed into his back, sending him to the ground as a charred and mummified corpse. Following the path the spell seemed to have come from, the noble’s eyes settled on Hubert, whose smug bravado was blatant in the smirk on his face. Ferdinand’s cheeks went red, and Hubert turned quickly, hiding his own reaction by launching another blast at an assailant who was charging Edelgard. The attacker was sent stumbling, allowing the empress-to-be to swing her axe directly into his spine at the base of his skull. 

Edelgard ran towards the main conflict occurring at the center of the room, the fight between Miklan, Byleth and Catherine. The disgraced lord seemed adept with the staff, ably blocking Byleth’s strikes and Catherine’s sword. 

The professor swung for the back of his head, but the handle of the staff slid back and knocked her fist aside. He spun around, swinging the spear behind Catherine’s legs and knocking her to the ground, but thankfully failing to slice her ligaments as Miklan seemed to have wanted. Continuing the spin, he managed to cut a long wound across Byleth’s chest. 

The professor in question tried to grab the spear below the head, but only managed to get another gash, this one across the palm of her hand.  
Catherine kicked her foot out, aiming for the man’s knee, but he moved his leg aside, slamming the blunt of his spear into her stomach before spinning it and slamming the blade down. Had Byleth not grabbed her and helped her roll aside, he’d have buried the blade into her stomach. 

However what Catherine was not aware of was the fact that Byleth, who seemed suddenly much more out of breath then she had just a moment before, had just finished rewinding time after he had done exactly that. She pushed herself up from the ground, her sword on the other side of the spear-wielding psychopath. 

The psychopath in question was currently launching a volley of strikes against the professor, while the princess could be seen running up behind him. Byleth swung out and caught him just in the corner of his jaw, allowing Edelgard to seize the opportunity, screaming as she swung her axe into the back of his legs, severing them both at the knee and sending him to the ground.His screams echoed through the chamber. Byleth grabbed the spear from the ground. 

“You monsters.” Blood ran down the sides of Miklan’s mouth as he spat the words at the three women. “At least I die with honor, will you say the same? Shedding blood and losing friends for the sake of some rich man’s gold. Such a pitiful life...it’ll only end in a death just as pitiful.” Byleth buried the spear into his chest, and her hands left the handle slick with blood. Edelgard recoiled as Miklan began laughing, the ragged motion spitting blood everywhere. 

The students began gathering at the entrance to the foyer, the ground around them absolutely littered with dead bandits. Catherine had collapsed onto the ground, coughing and laughing as she caught her breath from the ordeal. Dorothea sat on the steps into the main room, panting desperately with Petra’s arm draped over her shoulder. 

“Are you ok, Professor? You’re bleeding quite a bit.” Edelgard asked, pointing to several wounds that adorned Byleth. Segments of her tunic and pants now hung off of her in ragged shreds, and some seemed adhered in place with dried blood. 

“I’m fine. I’ve had worse. Are you hurt?” Byleth pointed to a paltry wound on Edelgard’s arm. 

“It’s nothing serious. I can barely feel it.” she said, holding the limb out. 

“Well, we can have Dorothea or Linhardt take a look at it once we’ve made sure no one is dying.” Byleth said, reaching down to offer a hand to Catherine. The knight took it and stood up, grunting and leaning against the wall. She was clearly having trouble staying standing. 

“You did good out there, princess. That swing at Miklan’s legs was brutal, I respect it.” Catherine said with a smile. Not her usual cocky grin, but a genuine smile. Edelgard returned it in kind before looking away. The adrenaline must have been starting to wear off, because she suddenly felt her face becoming very flushed. 

“Thank you, Sir….Thank you Catherine. You seemed quite impressive yourself, when you weren’t being knocked onto the ground.” Catherine looked offended, but still laughed.

“You know what, you’re actually speaking more than three words to me, so talk as much trash as you want. For today at least.” Catherine clapped her hand on the girls shoulder before turning back to Byleth. “Looks like I lived. so you better get ready to back up that ‘drinks are on me’ bit, Byleth. I’m going to drink you into poverty.” Byleth never got to return the teasing. As she opened her mouth to do so, the horrifying sound of tearing flesh and cracking bone could be heard, and everyone could see a thick black ooze pouring over Miklan’s corpse from the handle of his spear, slowly morphing the body into a sick, twisted beast who looked more akin to a massive lizard with several bones exposed than anything akin to human. A massive, powerful horns grew out above it’s eye’s, eye’s aimed squarely at Byleth and the women beside her. 

“What is that!?” Bernadetta screamed in horror. 

“Doesn’t matter! Everybody up! We got something new to kill!” Catherine ordered, her voice exasperated, and only reinforced by a muttered ‘goddess have mercy can’t we have one easy mission?” 

Byleth charged at the beast, swinging her fist at it’s head. However she was knocked aside easily, the force of the blow sending her into a wall. Petra, Bernadetta, and Fredrique launched a united volley of arrows at the beast, but only one arrow actually lodged into the beast's thick skin while the others bounced away. Catherine’s blade made a decent gash into its hide, but she was knocked back, stumbling into Edelgard who had been running up behind her to provide support. Dorothea had just launched a fireball into the beast's eyes when Byleth looked up. She was just in time to see it happen. 

The beast's charge never slowed for a second, never broke stride no matter the damage that was caused to it, and it’s entire weight was pushed into its horn as one tore into the flesh of the women standing before it. 

Catherine had been thrown back into Edelgard, so it was her that was hit first. The tip of the beast’s horn tore through her breastplate like paper, piercing her lung and through the other sheet of steel on her back. The scream of pain that had been preparing to tear through her throat was silenced immediately.

Edelgard had been trying to help Catherine regain her footing, so she was taken completely by suprise as a razor sharp claw tore its way out of the blonde woman’s armor and pierced her stomach. Her scream could be heard very clearly as the demon lifter its head, and with it both of the women speared on its head, into the air.

The monster shook its head from side to side, launching Catherine to one side and Edelgard in the other. Both landed with a sick wet ‘thud’. The dead, empty eyes of Edelgard Von Hresvelg stared at Byleth, and the professor felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. 

“Sothis!” Byleth’s voice cracked as she begged for the goddess’s attention “Go back, please! We have to go back!” She didn’t care about the confused, terrified stares she received from Caspar and Hubert. She was beyond trying to be subtle. 

_“I...I’ll try, but please be careful! I’m drained and weak enough as is, this could...” ___

__“Do it!” Byleth screamed._ _

__Reality shattered around her as her mind was dragged back through the vicious quicksand of time and trauma. She watched the body in front of her flying from the ground, landing a second after Catherine’s back onto the horn that had skewered them only for the monster to awkwardly set them back onto their feet as it backed away, the flesh knitting back together as the horn pulled out. Byleth felt herself lift back up, slamming back against the wall and then back to her position stood next to her student and her companion. With that, time lurched back to a standstill, and began flowing again._ _

__Byleth flew back and smashed against the stone again for a third time, before shakily standing as quickly as she could and launching herself forward without hesitation._ _

__Edelgard felt a sudden wave of nausea overtake her as the full weight of the knight in front of her toppled onto her, sending them both to the ground. They both scrambled, sure they were moments away from being trampled, and both the knight and empress barely looked up in time to see one blue-haired professor leaping in front of them._ _

__Byleth wrapped her arms around the base of the monster's horn as she landed just ahead of it. The rounded base of it slammed into her shoulder, and with a raging scream she threw her entire body weight, every ounce of her strength, ahead of her. She knew this creature was too large to move, but she could change it’s direction. She had to._ _

__Catherine watched, amazed, as the monster’s path changed ever so slightly. But Byleth either didn’t or couldn’t let go, and was taken along for the ride. She and the entire surviving party watched in horror as the professor was smashed between the demonic beast and the massive stone pillar she had, knowingly or not, guided it towards._ _

__The room was filled with the horrifying cracking sound her ribcage made as her chest cavity collapsed from the force. It must have been a trick of the sound bouncing off of the stone around them, but as a scream emanated from the professor’s mouth, Edelgard could swear it was as if two voices were coming from the professor at once. One being hers, if twisted by pain, while another came out higher-pitched and warped in some way. It sounded as if it were ringing through a long vibrating metal tube. The cacophonous sound was utterly and completely terrifying. She turned towards Catherine, hoping to see any kind of direction from her, but the knight was on her knees, eyes wide in horror and face already streaked with tears. The princess turned back and saw the beast backing away from the professor, whose body was now slumped over on the ground, propped weakly against the pillar. The way her chest seemed to be foled beneath her tunic made Edelgard want to vomit, and she felt a burning in her eyes, but she refused to acknowledge the tears on her own cheeks as she hefted her axe, turning towards her classmates._ _

__“Linhardt! Dorothea! Get to the Professor! Now! Everyone else, we need to draw that beast away. Petra, Bernadetta, Hubert, I need you three to spread out and keep firing at it from a distance, don’t group up and it may remain confused long enough to give us a shot! Leonie, Ashe, Caspar and Ferdinand, same idea, don’t get too close to each other, and try to dodge when it retaliates.” The students all looked to her, faces in various stages of sobbing or trying not to, and nodded. “GO!”_ _

__As the students charged forward, Catherine tried to shake herself from her stupor. Joseph’s voice rang through her mind, and she felt something shaking her violently._ _

__“Cat! Snap out of it! You really gonna let a bunch of kids fight for us!?” He was right. She couldn’t do this again, she wouldn’t do this again. She wouldn’t fail and leave her allies to flounder and die for her failure. For her weakness. She wasn’t a student anymore, she was a dagger of the Goddess. She moved to stand up, seeing a hand being offered to her. She took it and was hefted up, the old man's eyes looked tired, but his smile was proud._ _

__“You good, Cat?” He asked, slapping her on the shoulder. She wiped her cheek and nodded._ _

__“Yeah, I’m good.” She replied as Fredrique ran up, bow at the ready with her sword in his other hand._ _

__“What’s the plan, boss?” He asked, handing it to her with a weak grin._ _

__“You heard the princess. Keep the thing distracted and hit it. Hard. Makes as much sense as anything I could come up with.” Catherine said, focusing the energy of her crest into the hilt of the blade, body glowing softly as Thunderbrand’s blade began to do similarly. “I call dibs on its head.” She said, and the boys moved from her path as she charged forward._ _

__“Told you they were a thing.” Fredrique whispered, drawing an arrow._ _

__“Freddy, shut up.” With that, Joe followed close behind Catherine, hammer at the ready._ _

__Dorothea had her hands pressed to the professors ribs, white light flooding over the woman’s body to the point it almost couldn’t be seen. On the other side of her Linhardt was doing something similar. The two tried to repair the damage done by the beasts attack, but there was so much it was almost impossible to tell where to even start. The professors breathing was rapid, and at times sounded like she was breathing out and in at the same time. Her eyes only stared blankly at the ceiling._ _

__“How’s it on your end, Lindy?” Dorothea’s usual optimism was clearly strained._ _

__“I don’t know….the bones are in so many pieces I’m having trouble trying to shift them to the right spot. I’m worried I’ll malform something and just make it worse!” Linhardt rambled, openly sobbing._ _

__“Lindy, you’ve got this. If you doubt yourself you’ll only increase the risk. Take a deep breath, and do what you think is right. I don’t think you could make this much worse if you tried.”_ _

__“Ok...but are you feeling that stuff too? It feels like there’s something cold and hard near her heart, but I don’t see any puncture marks.” Hubert said, gesturing around Byleth’s chest._ _

__“I feel it too, yes. I patched up some superficial scrapes and cuts from hitting the stone, but nothing that would have let something that big in. It doesn’t feel like one something, either. It almost feels as if it’s a bunch of tiny shards. It’s hard to pick them out among the bones, but I doubt they’re helping. Try and remove them as best you can, but please be careful Lindy.”_ _

__“I will.” Linhardt said, lifting his hand and slowly a long thick shard of what appeared to be intricately carved stone phased through Byleth’s chest. He moved his hand over and let it fall to the ground. “Thank you, Dorothea.” He said faintly._ _

__“Don’t mention it.” She said, smiling as she phased out another thin fragment of stone._ _

__Catherine’s blade tore a deep gouge out of the side of the beasts chest before she was forced to dodge back by the side-swipe of its head. She landed a few feet from Edelgard, whose axe was bloody already._ _

__“You holding up alright, princess?” Catherine asked, blocking a slab of stone that had been thrown at her by the beast._ _

__“I’m fine! Now take this seriously!” Edelgard dodged out of the way of another stone as she swung her axe into the beast’s leg._ _

__“I am! But this thing isn’t budging! We’ve gotta try something else.” Catherine said, blocking another boulder._ _

__“What do you suggest then!?” Edelgard asked, furious. The knight looked between the princess and her sword, an evil grin growing on her face._ _

__“How high can you jump?”_ _

__Edelgard had a very bad feeling about what was about to happen._ _

__That feeling didn’t stop when she, under Catherine’s advice, ran at the knight and jumped up, landing on the flat side of the tall blonde’s sword, only to be shoved up as she jumped again, flying into the air and slamming into the side of the beast. She dug her axe into the thing’s hide, causing the beast to scream. She took that as a sign she was doing something right, and began crawling up, until finally she was straddling the thing’s back._ _

__She moved to swing her axe down, almost throwing herself off of the monster with her momentum as the blade dug into it’s soft back. She squeezed her knees, using her ankles to help secure herself as the monster reared back, trying to throw her off. As it did so, all of her classmates charged forward, attacking the creature’s soft underbelly. Before they could do much damage however, Catherine hollered in rage and leapt up. Her blade glowed briliantly as it sliced clean through the beasts neck._ _

__By the time it hit the ground, Edelgard had already leapt from it and tossed her axe aside, running over to the professor and the healers, both of whom looked exhausted._ _

__“How is she?” Edelgard asked hurriedly._ _

__“She’s still alive. Her breathing is mellowing, and I can feel her heartbeat. It’s extremely faint, but it’s there!” Dorothea explained._ _

__“Wait, you can feel her…” Edelgard started, only to be cut off by Catherine._ _

__“Do you think she could make the journey back to the monastery if we put her on a stretcher?” The knight asked, her face splattered in gore from the monster's demise._ _

__“Not on foot. No. It’d take hours and the risk of something happening would be too great.” Linhardt said._ _

__“What about on a Wyvern?” Desperation dripped off of her voice like blood dripped from her face as she spoke._ _

__“Maybe? But they’d need to move quickly, and take one of us with them to keep her stable.” Dorothea explained. Catherine nodded and ran over to her men, barking orders at them before they began running back out of the building._ _

__A few minutes later, Catherine helped carry Byleth down the stairs, and out into the valley around the tower, where Shamir and her wyvern were perched at the ready._ _

__“Never a dull moment with you, huh Catherine?” Shamir asked leaping up from her saddle._ _

__“Cut the shit, Shamir. Can you take her?” Catherine asked, gesturing to the woman in her arms._ _

__“Yeah, her and one other person. Any more and my girl’ll get pissy.” Shamir explained, patting the winged creature’s head._ _

__“That’s fine. Dorothea, can you go with her?” The songstress nodded at Catherine’s question. Shamir helped set Byleth on the beast’s back, and Dorothea climbed on, helping hold her in place with her still-glowing white hands. Another moment and they were gone._ _

__Edelgard and Catherine both stood in the field, looking up as the speck that was the flying beast grew smaller and smaller._ _

__“She’s going to be ok, right?” Edelgard asked, and the way she almost seemed to be pleading for any kind of hope as she looked up at her made Catherine’s heart drop even farther than it already had. She tried to push down the burning of tears in her eyes, but even a knight is only so disciplined. She took a deep breath, and tried to project some kind of certainty, for Edelgard if not herself._ _

__“She’ll be ok.” Catherine replied, turning and patting the princess’s shoulder. “She has to be.”  
She never was quite sure which of the two of them she was trying to convince more. _ _

__

__The battle-wearied mob walked slowly to the town which they had come from, and Catherine went into the same Inn, standing at the bar for a few minutes before the man stood behind it finally acknowledged her._ _

__“Can I help you miss?” The man asked, washing a mug with a dirty rag._ _

__“Yes. I should still have a few rooms on reserve. We put them up last night and paid for two days. Under the Church of Seiros.” Catherine said, and he nodded._ _

__“Right, then. I remember that. Let me grab your keys quick-like.” He walked off, returning a few minutes later with the key in hand. He slid them over to her, along with a beer in the mug he’d just been cleaning. “On the house, you look like right-shit, miss.” He said. Catherine laughed, grabbing the mug and downing it in two quick gulps._ _

__“Yeah, long day. But, those bandits out east are all done for, so you should be able to sleep safe and sound.” Catherine said, sliding back the glass._ _

__“Out east? Nah, missy, the bandit’s’s been coming’ from down south-a-ways.” The barman said, confusion evident on his face._ _

__“Well, maybe they’ve been coming from the south, but they were stationed out of a camp to the east of here.” Catherine was more than a bit agitated. Who the hell did this guy think he was?_ _

__“Ah, well call it the right-hand of me priest, cus it beats the hell outta me. I’m just glad you all took care of them. They’ve been raiding us out of food and firewood for months now, and we’ve heard nothin from the church until now. That poor ol’ noble sod ‘n all his men were the closest thing we had to any kinda protection.” The barman muttered as he took the glass back and began cleaning it again._ _

__“Oh, we hadn’t heard of any nobles helping provide aid. What was the lord’s name?” Catherine asked._ _

__“Ah, Not’n a noble I s’pose. Apparently there’d been some drama wit’n his family or some-such nonsense, but he seemed a right ‘nough guy I suppose. Always paid his tab’n kept his men in line. They traded pretty fairly, and kept us pretty well stocked on game from out in the woods. If you hang out a few more hours you may just meet him. He usually comes by around this time of the week with some meat to trade from his men’s huntin’. But…” The man looked around a bit. “Can I be trustin you to keeps a secret?” He asked._ _

__“Yeah, sure why not.” Catherine tried not to roll her eyes in the mans face._ _

__“Word I’ve been hearin’ is he’s been raiding nobleman’s stagecoaches and bank-carriages to make trouble for some of his old family. I don’t think he’s the type, but considering how well he tips us it makes about as much sense as anything else. I can’t remember his name though. Somethin ‘bout a goat I suppose, Goat-ear, Goat-ien, somethin like that.” Catherine furrowed her brow._ _

__“Um, Gautier?” She suggested._ _

__“Yeah! Tha’s the one, in’it. Goat-e-ay.” The barman said, setting the mug under the counter and tossing the rag with it. “Good man, ‘at-one. Anyway, can I help you wit’ anything else?”_ _

__“No...No I think i’ll be fine. Thank you.” Catherine said, walking off to the rest of her men. What in the hell was going on?_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hope everyone enjoyed this weeks update. Wanted to drop in and say I'm always happy to read and respond to yalls comments! Also, I made a twitter account with the same @ as my tumblr and my account here on AO3, so if you wanna hear me rant about my gay hot takes of FETH lore, check me out @DressTheSage


	12. Chapter 12: Come Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nasty procedure, several awkward conversations, a muttered 'fuck you' and Edelgard von Hresvelg still not realizing she's in the middle of a lesbian awakening. What more could you want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Enjoy this weeks update, and don't forget to check me out on Twitter and Tumblr @dressthesage if that's your kind of shit. If not, enjoy three useless fucking lesbians awkwardly dancing around eachother:

The first thing Byleth felt was her sternum cracking. Not a second later, it was followed by her ribs shattering as the beast smashed her against the hard stone of the tower walls. Something deep within her seemed to shatter as well. Not her spine, that she could tell was a few inches farther back, and thankfully was managing not to snap or completely tear apart. Once she felt that cracking, however, is when the screaming started. It wasn’t hers at first. She didn’t feel the vibrating in her throat that came from screaming. Rather, it started in the back of her mind. It was a tormented, aching cry that flowed from her thoughts to her throat and out into the world. Her mind was torn apart, ripped to shreds as if a clawed hand was reaching in and tearing away a part of her own brain. 

When she finally hit the ground, she felt something in her chest pounding as if it were trying to escape from her body. It hurt worse than the crushing sensation had, and her gasping for breath only worsened the situation. When her students had reached her their healing magic helped numb the pain inside of her, and she was able to breathe, barely conscious.When they began pulling strange shards from her chest, however, the screaming in her mind came back, until it was so powerful she fell unconscious.

She could remember looking up, bleary eyed, at Catherine as she was carried in the knights strong arms. She felt her lips pulling loosely up as she faded back to the black abyss of her own mind. 

The next time she woke, she looked around and saw nothing but blue sky, clouds, and the occasional flash of a scaled wing passing in front of her. She looked down and saw two glowing white hands clinging to her chest from behind. 

“Cat...Cather….E...Edel... Edelgard…” Byleth choked out weakly, and Dorothea saw her professor’s ribs seeming to jut out against the already-straining skin as she did so. 

“Save your energy professor, Catherine and Edie are fine. Let’s just get you home safe.” 

Byleth was out before she could even realize who was speaking to her. 

The next time she woke up was from an agonizing pain that coursed through her chest. She shot up and nearly smashed her skull into Manuela’s until four surprisingly strong hands grabbed her and shoved her back onto the cot. Manuela continued lifting both of her hands, and Byleth felt her chest shift forward,followed by the sensation of her ribs grinding against each other before fusing back in place. Byleth’s screams of agony quickly disappeared as she lost consciousness yet again. 

Edelgard von Hresvelg and Thunder Catherine of the Knights of Seiros both stood there, holding her down as she went limp beneath their grip. They had left the inn before even the crack of dawn, the Eagles having been awoken by Edelgard while Catherine had had her men up even earlier. 

It was a funny coincidence, considering neither of them had discussed the idea with each other prior.

By the time they got to the Monastery, Manuela and Hanneman had been hard at work for almost 12 hours already, alternating back and forth to patch together the Professor’s shattered body. Catherine and Edelgard had been among the crowd outside the infirmary doors for the first hour or two, but after a while they had heard Manuela scream, and found her on the ground, clutching at her head as the Professor twitched and screamed on the cot. Professor Manuela had explained that Byleth was healed to the point she was starting to be able to come back to consciousness, and while that was a good sign it meant the procedure was about to get much more difficult. Neither Catherine nor Edelgard hesitated to volunteer to help hold her down. That was already several hours ago. 

Edelgard wasn’t crying anymore. She hadn’t since the first time the professor had awoken screaming, and Catherine could only grit her teeth and bite back her own feelings. Having been through this kind of situation more than a few times, she was amazed by the student’s willpower, but even she could see cracks starting to develop.

“Hey, princess.” Catherine said, looking up at Edelgard, who looked back to her, determination burning in her eyes more than tears “She’s gonna be ok.” Catherine was trying her best to sound reassuring. 

“I know.” Edelgard said through grit teeth. 

“If you need to step out for a minute, I can keep her stable. It’ll be a while till she’s able to wake up again.” Catherine offered. Edelgard swallowed deeply, looking down at the pain-racked face of her sleeping instructor. 

“Are...are you certain?” She asked, and Catherine saw the bold, proud heiress of the Adrestian Empire fade into a tired, scared young woman not unlike Catherine had been at her age, or if she was honest, how she felt now. 

“I am. If something happens, you’ll hear me holler. Just go take a minute, breathe.” She’d seen too many good people die, she couldn’t let Byleth be added to that list. Not for her sake. Catherine nodded towards the door and heard a tired ‘thank you’ from the princess as she walked out, stepping into the hall. 

The clamour of students could be heard in the room as the door swung open and Edelgard left. The rest of the Eagles, as well as several knights and other faculty had gathered around in the halls. All of them stared at Edelgard as she left the room. Several students were asleep on the various small ornate benches around the hall, and a few others were even asleep on the floor. 

“Is there any news?” Linhardt asked, ironically one of the few still-conscious students. Caspar stood close beside him, an arm draped over his shoulder. 

“Nothing yet. I promise, as soon as I know, you will. If you’d excuse me…” Edelgard said, quickly passing through the crowd towards the staircase. She wandered down half a flight of steps, and when she was certain no one else was in there with her, she leaned back against the cold stone wall and slid down, hugging her knees to her chest as she tried to hold back tears. 

She didn’t do very well. Her mind was filled with screams, both those of her Professor and those of her own family. Her brain flashed between the image of her Professor being crushed by the monstrous beast, and that of the needles and knives her captors used to carve into her and her sibling’s bodies. Byleth’s agonized screams were fading into that of her older sister as she was begging for the mercy of death as opposed to any more torture. 

That mercy didn’t come for her for almost a year. 

Edelgard’s entire body shook as she sobbed silently. Her horrifying past was now bleeding into a terrifying and uncertain future. It felt as if acid flowed through her veins, eating away at her insides. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her head shot up and she saw Hubert stood above her, his hand outstretched. 

“It is only I, Lady Edelgard. Sir Catherine sent me to find you.” He said. His face held a gentle smile that Edelgard only ever saw when they were alone. She found it warming to her heart. She took his hand and he helped her to her feet, pulling a handkerchief from his lapel and dabbing at the spots of her face that were mucked with tears. 

“Thank you, Hubert.” Edelgard said quietly, taking in a deep breath as she readied herself to go back to the room. 

“Of course, Lady Edelgard. Do not let this worry you, Professor Manuela is skilled at her craft.” he paused and seemed to almost chuckle. “As much as can be said about the Professor, she is nothing if not resilient. I am quite certain the Goddess herself could not sway that woman from carrying on her stubborn path, let alone any phantom of death.” Hubert rested his hand on her shoulder. Edelgard chuckled weakly. He was not wrong. “Do not let those demons that haunt the past break you. Let them guide you even farther along the path you’ve set us on. We shall continue your righteous journey and destroy the foul monsters who laid the trail for both of these tragedies to occur. ” Hubert said, his smile growing into a self-assured determination. Edelgard couldn’t help but match it. Hubert had known her long enough that he could assume what had been going through her mind, and more often then not, like today, he was correct. 

“You’re right. No matter what, the people will win when this is done. We must ensure it.” 

“Absolutely. Now go. I’m sure that knight is not the patient type.” Edelgard walked back up the stairs, leaving Hubert in the stairwell alone.He sighed, his own body aching from the strain of the long march home, and his mind tired with the thoughts of what they had seen in that tower. He also was becoming more and more aware that he may have been more accurate in his initial assessment of the Lady’s relationship with the Professor than he would like to admit. 

“So, this is where all of the most loyal nobles meet, is it?” Ferdinand asked as he walked behind Hubert. The young green haired man whipped around, startled. 

“What?” Hubert was beyond confused. 

“Oh, nevermind. I should leave the taunts to Sylvain.” Ferdinand said, waving it off. He placed that waving hand in his pocket, and the other sat hooked into his belt. “I..um, I wanted to say thank you. For your help in the fight. That spell of yours saved me a lot of trouble, and I find you’ve done that quite a bit as of late.” He blushed as he spoke, his face almost matching his hair. 

“It...It was nothing, Mister Aeigher.” Hubert said, swallowing a bit weakly as he saw the blush on the young lord’s face. 

“Oh, please Hubert, can we drop all the formality for just a moment and speak like people?” Ferdinand’s question was little more than a whisper. 

“Ok, then what would you like to talk about, mister…” Hubert caught himself quickly. “What would you like to talk about Ferdinand?””

“I was wondering if you’d like to have some coffee together some time.” Ferdinand said, that blush creeping back into his cheeks. Not long after he finished speaking a matching one began creeping into Hubert’s as well. 

“I….I suppose that would be pleasant.” Hubert said, swallowing again and trying his best to keep his cool demeanour. 

“Wonderful! My family shipped me a bag from one of the merchant ships coming from Dagda, I thought you might enjoy it.” 

“That sounds lovely, Ferdinand.”

It was well past midnight when Jeralt quietly opened the door to the infirmary. He had been unable to avoid his obligations for the day, and never heard an update from the students or the knights about his daughter’s condition. He had been wrought with worry for hours.

When he finally managed to enter the room, he saw all the candles had been blown out, and Maneula’s door to her quarters was closed at the end of the office. Jeralt peaked around, and saw the expressionless face of his daughter as she slept peacefully, her chest rising and falling evenly with every breath. 

He was thankful that she was alive, however once that was assured he was overtaken by a quiet sense of confusion. Looking down at the bed, he saw the two others near it, both of whom were just as asleep. 

On his daughter’s left side sat one of her student’s, it was one of the nobles she’d saved that night in the woods. Edelgard was her name, if he remembered correctly. She was sat in a large padded chair with her head laid down on the cot. On the other side was Catherine, her heels kicked up onto an empty corner of that same cot as she laid back in another matching chair. 

However his confusion was not based on the fact that they were both present, in fact quite the opposite. Considering the ordeal as it had been described to him before he’d stopped receiving reports, he would have been more concerned had they simply left her here alone. 

No what confused him was that both of the women beside his daughter were holding one of her hands as they slept. Or perhaps held wasn’t the right word. Edelgard’s hand was draped over Byleth’s, her glove still in place as her finger curled over the edge of his daughter’s wrist, as if checking her pulse. Catherine was clutching Byleth’s hand in an iron grip, as if hoping to keep his daughter in the land of the living by her strength alone. He shook his head and walked back out of the room.

He closed the door and started back to his own quarters, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he heaved a sigh. What in the hell had his daughter gotten herself into? Catherine was a good fighter, to be certain. A hell of a knight and ally to have by your side in a battle, but the woman's affection for the Archbishop was, to put it lightly, well known. So it was unlikely that there was any real future for her there.

He decided to let the thoughts drop. He knew his daughter was safe, that was what was important. Those other details could wait until he had gotten some sleep. 

The next day, as the sun was barely rising over the hills in the distance beyond Garreg Mach, Catherine and Edelgard were both wide awake, sitting beside the cot on which Byleth was laying. 

Catherine sighed deeply as she looked at the sleeping face of her… she still wasn’t sure what to call her. Comrade? Friend? 

She looked at Byleth and felt a weariness enter her heart she had felt for a very, very long time. Another person she had failed to protect. Just like her classmates in their final battle, her failures had nearly killed the people she held dear. Lady Rhea’s words echoed through her mind as she thought of her failure, trying to funnel it into the only thing she could, her drive to serve the goddess’s will and the Archbishop. 

After a long while of that line of thought, she looked away from the sleeping professor to see the student sat there across from her. She seemed to be deep in thought, and Catherine tried to figure out a way to break the silence. She quickly looked away however as she saw Edelgard looking up, as she didn’t want the girl to feel like she was staring at her. 

Edelgard’s eyes bounced between Catherine and her Professor on the cot. Catherine looked tired, and not just physically. Edelgard felt herself struggle for something to say, but couldn’t find much of anything. Manuela had been kind enough to allow them to sleep there, and they had both fallen to exhaustion at their own times once they were certain the professor was stable. Now they were sitting there, staring at an unconscious woman in silence. Edelgard thought to say something, but what could she really say? She still wasn’t sure why this woman made her so confused whenever she saw her and the professor together, and how the thoughts of the two of them ‘together’ seemed to haunt her late at night. However ‘haunting’ may be a rather...inaccurate word to describe those thoughts. 

Edelgard was pulled from her thoughts when Catherine’s voice filled her ears. 

“Listen, princess...” The knight started, floundering for words as she ran her hands through her long blonde hair, some chunks still red from bandit blood. “I get that things have been kind of...awkward lately. It isn’t like I don’t understand why. I probably didn’t make the best impression, being a sarcastic shit after Lonato, and while I still blame that on the bloodloss I can see how what you um...walked in on a few days later might have not exactly given the most brilliant first impression, and, well... I’m sorry, I guess, if all that made you uncomfortable around me. There any chance you think that we can just call it shit under the bridge, try to start fresh? I can only take so much awkwardness and loathing from her students, and Ashe supplies plenty enough for the lot of you. For good reason, I’ll admit, but still.” Catherine’s elbows rested on her knees as she looked at the student, her nerves stood on end. 

Edelgard felt something bitter in the back of her stomach, and this feeling she knew well enough. It was guilt. Catherine had little reason to apologize, even Edelgard could admit that. While Catherine wasn’t exactly a tactful politician, it had been her who’d walked in on them, and instead of walking away, she had watched. 

Perhaps that was what those scattered nightmares were, punishment for her voyeurism of the two. But then why did the site of the two of them together, even outside of that make her feel so strange? Whatever the reason, Edelgard was smart enough to know that conflict was hers, and not Catherine’s to bear. She nodded, swallowing the frog that had held her throat for the past several hours before she spoke. 

“Yes...I think we can.” Edelgard said weakly as she looked back to the professor, shaking her head. Catherine nodded and then shrugged and then stood from her seat, offering the girl her hand. 

“Well, then it’s nice to meet you, Princess. The name is Catherine, Thunder Catherine if you feel like being theatrical.” she said, her old cocky smirk plastered on her face. /however this time it was much more subdued, and in a way more genuine. Edelgard let out a quick chuckle, shaking her head before shaking the presented hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Catherine.” Edelgard teased, pausing before her smile grew a bit more. “Oh, my deepest apologies, Thunder Catherine.” She pretended to correct. Catherine laughed, so hard in fact that she coughed a bit and had to catch her breath. There had been so much tension in the room that now that it seemed broken the relieved pressure was too much to not make the laughter contagious. Edelgard couldn’t help but join in.

While trying to sit back down, Catherine dropped back into the chair behind her making a loud cracking sound but not visibly breaking anything. Catherine looked down, examining the thing closely and, finding no damage she could see, nervously sat back. She looked back up at Edelgard who had been staring in bewilderment as well as some shared fear of Professor Manuela’s reaction where they to have broken anything. When it appeared they had escaped that, the two began laughing again, just happy to actually have something to laugh about for the first time in days. 

It was right about that point that Manuela looked up from her spot reading at her desk, to see the two of them laughing like hyenas. The professor gazed at the two women trying to contain themselves for a moment and sighed weakly, still rather drained from the previous day’s procedure. 

“Oh dear goddess don’t tell me you two cracked already. I don’t have the facilities for that kind of thing.” Manuela muttered. Catherine finally quit laughing, and leaned over the back of the chair, making a quiet splintering sound that only Edelgard seemed to notice. 

“No crazier than usual Manuela, don’t worry about us.” She said. 

“Small mercy, I suppose.” Manuela said, returning to her book. She wasn’t actually reading, she was rather enjoying the awkward drama playing out in front of her, but thought it rude to actually openly stare at them. A few minutes later, she looked up and her eyes went wide as she saw Catherine holding one of Byleth’s hands in her own as she and Edelgard talked. 

“Don’t worry, Princess, Byleth is a tough bird. She’ll make it through this fine.” Catherine said, squeezing the blue haired professor’s hand softly. Manuela was overwhelmingly confused.

“I know, but I would feel better if she were awake and we were able to see that. “ Edelgard said, her arms crossed in front of her. She looked at the professor’s face with such a longing it made Manuela’s heart ache for the girl. 

“Manuela said she might take a couple of days to wake up. She went through a lot, it takes time to recover from shit like she took.” Catherine said, squeezing Byleth’s hand again. Edelgard nodded, and a moment later the doors opened beside them. Catherine, Edelgard, and Manuela all looked over to see Ashe, Leonie and Dorothea stood at the entryway. They entered and Catherine let Byleth’s hand fall from her own as discreetly as she could. Manuela was now even more confused. 

“Good morning Edie, Catherine.” Dorothea said, throwing her arms around Edelgard’s neck and hugging her close as Ashe stood beside them. Leonie took a spot beside Catherine, looking down at the sleeping instructor. 

“How’s she doing?” Ashe asked, concern evident in the tone of the question. 

“She’s fine. She had one of the best medics in Fodlan taking care of her. “ Catherine said, making sure to say the last part loud enough for Manuela to hear. The healer stood and walked over.

“Oh my dear Catherine, flattery is quite unbecoming of you, even if it may be pleasant to hear.” Manuela said before turning to the students. “But she’s right, physically she will be fine, however that kind of damage can cause serious mental toll, so she may sleep for a while.” The three nodded and yet Ashe still seemed nervous. 

“You’re...you’re sure she’ll be ok?” The young noble asked. Manuela nodded. 

“As sure as I can be. Don’t worry yourself, she’ll be fine.” 

“Professor” Dorothea piped up quickly, walking over to Manuela’s side. “Would you like to have some tea? It’s been quite a while since we’ve been able to have some together, and you had such a strenuous day yesterday it may do you well!” 

“Why, I’d love that, Dorothea.” Manuela said, patting Ashe on the shoulder. “Come along you two, I can only leave so many people unattended at once.” Manuela said, practically dragging Ashe out while Dorothea did something similar with Leonie. 

Once settled into a small shady spot in the corner of one of the many small courtyards on the monastery, Dorothea and Manuela poured out cups of hot tea and leaned in close to talk about the latest gossip. 

“So how was the mission? Before, well, everything happened I mean.” Manuela could tell by the evil glint in Dorothea’s eye that she had something juicy. 

“Oh, professor, you’ll never believe what I caught. The Professor was covered in bruises the night before we raided the tower.” Dorothea explained, losing a bit of steam when Manuela rolled her eyes. 

“Dorothea, she’s a fighter. Bruises are not uncommon for her type after training. That’s the dryest gossip I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh? Bruises at the nape of the neck? With bite marks around them?” Dorothea’s grin grew in tandem with Manuela’s eyes as she leaned in closer. 

“You’re kidding me!” Dorothea shook her head no. “Oh goddess, those two move quickly. But I never took Edelgard for the biting type.” Manuela said casually. 

“I don’t think she is. The professor and her still seem rather...tense around each other, and I couldn’t see anything between them that might imply something of that nature.” Dorothea pondered. 

“Well then, who? Professor Eisner is not exactly a sparkling conversationalist, her options can’t be that abundant.” 

“Professor, didn’t you try to pick up Professor Eisner? Multiple times?” Dorothea asked, eyebrow cocked. Manuela rolled her eyes, her reply little more than a muttered defense.

“I flirted, that’s it. Besides, I just wanted to see if she would crack, more than anything else.” 

“Whatever you say, professor.” 

“It’s true! Besides, if I wanted some unladylike company I wouldn’t go to Professor Eisner. I’d be more likely to reach out to one of the knights, perhaps Catherine. That woman is well known for her torrid flings here and there...Dorothea?” Manuela looked at the dawning realization on her pupil’s face, and worried she may be having a stroke. 

“Edelgard would always get these strange looks whenever she saw professor Eisner talking with the knights accompanying us on our mission...one knight in particular. Care to take a guess who it was?” Dorothea said. Manuela’s eyes grew wider still. 

“No!” Dorothea nodded. “Oh my… this school really is quite the strange place.” Manuela took a slow drink, finishing her cup of tea. “But you certainly can’t call it boring.” 

Another two days passed, and still nothing from the Professor as she laid unconscious on the cot. Edelgard and Catherine had not left the office, save to walk to their rooms, bathe, and change clothes. They had their meals walked up by classmates and comrades, and there was always at least one of them in the room, if not both. 

Manuela watched the two chatter among themselves day by day, each day seeming a bit more comfortable than the one before. Edelgard would tell stories about the historic antics her family had gotten into, including some stories of her grandfather's time as emperor and the strangeness of Adrestian traditions, while Catherine usually told stories about old missions, grand victories over the enemies of the church. 

Manuela grinned as the two laughed over some punchline to a joke she hadn’t quite heard, shaking her head and turning back to her book. After a while, ten pages of torrid romance to be precise, the doors opened to reveal one Jeralt Eisner as he entered the room. Catherine looked up and Manuela saw her grip on Byleth’s hand relax, but not let go. Jeralt walked by her, patting the knight on the shoulder as he grabbed a chair from nearby and sat beside her. 

“Catherine, Miss Hresvelg, Good morning.” Jeralt said, sitting forward in his chair as he looked down at his daughter. 

“Good morning, Sir Eisner.” Edelgard said, a bit nervous as she looked at the captain of the Knight’s of Seiros, sat so casually in front of them. 

“Hello, Jeralt.” Catherine said, nodding to her commander. 

“How is she?” He asked, gesturing to his daughter. 

“Fine, sir. We’re still waiting for her to wake up, but Manuela assures us everything is ok.” Edelgard explained, the same dull explanation she’d given everyone who had visited to ask about the professor. Jeralt nodded and smiled as he looked back down at his daughter. 

“Thank you, both of you, really. You two sticking around here has made me feel a lot better about this whole situation.” Jeralt said, looking between the knight and the princess. Both smiled, however Catherine looked away a bit awkwardly. “I was going to grab some lunch, and I wanted to see if you two had eaten.” Both of the women shook their heads no. He nodded and patted Catherine on the shoulder. “Ok, then I’ll bring you all some back. Catherine, come with me. I don’t think I’ll be able to carry three plates alone.” His tone made it clear, that was an order. Catherine gulped audibly and stood, following closely behind the captain. 

The walk down to the dining room was long and silent. Jeralt knew he ought to say something, but in all honesty he thought it better to let Catherine squirm for a bit before finally addressing the Wyvern in the room. Both to make the conversation easier and because, well, it was fun. As they neared the dining hall, Jeralt stopped and turned to face Catherine, who seemed to be startled from her own thoughts. 

“So, I would guess it’s safe to assume you won’t be interested in another mission for a few days?” He asked, crossing his arms in front of him. 

“Yes, sir, I mean no, sir. I wouldn’t be interested. I think I should wait until By...the professor is done recovering from our previous deployment.” Catherine's palms began sweating as she prayed to the goddess for something to just drop from the sky and end her. How in the hell was she supposed to manage this conversation? ‘Hey boss, guess I won’t be able to do my job for a while, I’m trying to get over the guilt of your daughter getting hurt while I was meant to be keeping her safe. Oh, by the way, did you know that for several months now we’ve been fu...’ 

“Hmmmm, I suppose a week of leave could be approved for your team.” Jeralt’s words startled her from her internal monologue as he nodded, his face stone cold and blank enough he would make his daughter concerned. 

“Oh, thank you sir, that would be fantastic.” Catherine said, chuckling awkwardly. 

“Not a problem, your team has earned some time on leave, regardless of the situation. Besides, consider it a thank you for watching after my daughter since this ordeal started. It’s rather selfless of you, Catherine. I didn’t know you were the type to be so protective of your allies.” Jeralt said, smiling as he saw the woman sweat more and more with each word. He might have been having a bit too much fun with this. 

“Oh, well, yes of course I always hoped to be a good partn...you know a good comrade when out in the field. I mean I’m sure that if, well say I was to be in the same position after next week’s mission, Byleth would do the same. Well not Byleth in particular, that would be rather specific, but any of my allies.” Catherine stumbled over her words, and finally Jeralt had to just end the misery. He held up his hand. 

“Catherine, for the love of the goddess, don’t make this ordeal even more awkward just because you’re sleeping with my daughter.” He saw the woman's jaw drop as he spoke, and after a moment she sighed and rested a hand on her hip. 

“Fine. If you already know I suppose there’s not much point in trying to be subtle.” Catherine said, her usual nonchalant attitude having returned. Her main concern had been trying to avoid this conversation, but seeing as how he already knew, there was much less pressure to be careful with her words. 

“You’re a good knight, Catherine, but you’re about as subtle as a drunk wyvern in a church full of stained glass.” Jeralt taunted, earning a rather offended, even if only jokingly, expression from Catherine. “Also, don’t expect any sort of special treatment from me. I was serious about this break being something your team has already earned. But, as long as you’re not causing any trouble for Byleth, she’s a grown woman and I won’t get in the way of her life.” He hesitated for a moment, before leaning in closer. “However, I do ask that you be careful. I know about your history, and your situation with the Archbishop. I’d rather not have my daughter get caught up in the middle of all of that and end up getting hurt.”

“Understood, sir.” Catherine’s jaw tensed as she tried to bite back her retort. She was brash, but not stupid. Telling a superior officer to go fuck himself wasn’t likely to do her any favors. 

“Good.” He said, his serious demeanor vanishing into the same tired smile. “Now let’s grab some chow and hurry back.” 

The retrieving of food and subsequent walk back to the room was long and silent. Catherine felt something burning in her gut, and it wasn’t hard to figure out exactly what it was. Rage. Where in the hell did he get off stepping into her personal life, let alone his own daughter. They were both grown women, and could take care of themselves. But no, he had not only decided to jam his opinion in where it wasn’t wanted, and Catherine had more than a few places she wanted to tell him to shove that opinion, but he also thought it wise to make vague references to her history and Byleth getting ‘hurt’. 

As if they were even in the type of arrangement where that type of thing was possible. Sure, they were friendly, but that was it. Just two friends blowing off steam between missions, that was all. That had to be all.

He was just some old man with too much time on his hands, and Catherine wished he’d take up golf or something, anything besides butting into her sex life. 

Edelgard was still sitting beside Byleth when they made it back to the infirmary, and Catherine handed her a bowl of soup as she retook her seat . Jeralt sat down and the three began eating their soup in silence. 

Edelgard wasn’t quite sure, but she could hazard a guess that something had been discussed during the walk to retrieve their food. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. She thought it’d be better to try and relieve some of it, as she was rather uninterested in the idea of sitting in an awkward silence with the only two other conscious people in the room. She gave a slight cough and looked up from her bowl of soup. 

“So, captain, what do you make of the rumors floating around about that phantom that was supposedly seen last night?” Edelgard asked. She figured that’d be something related to Catherine and the Captain’s shared work as part of the Monastery’s security, plus it may provide her some useful information that could buy her good favor with the beasts that she was forced to accommodate as allies. Jeralt let out a soft chuckle, it wasn’t much more than a loud exhale through his nose really. 

“How in the Goddess’s name did you already hear about that? I barely was notified a few hours ago that reports had been made.” Jeralt asked, one cheek full of food. Edelgard guessed the apple really didn’t fall far from the tree. Between the manners and the way he was sat, knees splayed wide with his elbows rested on them and his bowl in front of him, the resemblance to the Professor was uncanny. 

“Dorothea told us about it when she brought us up breakfast this morning.” Edelgard said offhandedly. Jeralt looked at her a bit confused. “I’m sorry, was…” 

“Brown haired girl, wears a hat, spends a lot of time with Manuela.” Catherine offered almost instinctively, and the look of confusion disappeared from Jeralt’s face. 

“Ah, yes. Her. Figures if Manuela is a friend of hers.” Edelgard was rather surprised. Catherine hadn’t even been looking at the Captain, was that type of reminder a common interaction? “Well, as of right now we don’t have much of anything to go on besides a pair of scattered witnesses. No one is missing from the students or staff as far as can be figured out. It could have just been some sort of prank, either on the witnesses or by them on us. It’s yet to be seen.” 

“It sounded a lot like that skull-faced knight you two had mentioned during your battle in the crypt.” Catherine said offhandedly, scooping a heavy spoonful of food into her mouth. Jeralt looked a bit concerned, resting his hand on his chin. Edelgard tried to keep her casual composure, but felt her stomach tighten.

“You don’t say...that may raise some concerns. I’ll make sure to let Lord Seteth know about this.” Jeralt said. Looking down into his soup, lost in thought. 

“Oh sir, I didn’t mean to drag you into an in depth discussion about work. I’m sure you get so few breaks, let's try and focus on something a bit happier.” Edelgard said awkwardly. She had hoped to try and see if they had any leads on the Death Knight’s activities, and Catherine had to go and hand them a lead on a silver platter.

“You know, you’re right, kid.” Jeralt said, leaning back a bit and taking another spoonful of soup. “How has Byleth been doing with all of your training? Word around the faculty is she’s a bit of a slavedriver.” 

“Hahaha, she can be a bit brutal with her training regiment, but I think it’s intensity is slightly embellished.” Edelgard said with a shrug. 

“The hell it is.” Catherine said through a mouth full of soup, looking bewildered at the girl's words. She swallowed her food and turned to Jeralt. “I’ve actually been meaning to ask you about that, Captain. Your daughter is running these kids harder in a day than most of our boys train in a month.These kid’s’ll be running circles around us in no time flat.” 

“As if we aren’t already?” Edelgard asked with a smug grin. Jeralt thought for a moment that that expression looked familiar, but tossed the thought aside. He had to just be seeing things. Catherine laughed and pointed at the heiress with her spoon.

“Oh please, who had to save your ass from the nutjob on the horse back in Faergus?” Catherine asked pointedly. 

“Oh, ‘saving’ me is a very interesting way to refer to kicking me in the buttocks!” Edelgard said, her tone implying she was just shy of sticking her tongue out. 

“Excuse me, what did you do?” Jeralt asked, dumbstruck.

“There were extenuating circumstances.” Catherine said defensively. 

“But why kick me? Why not just shove me?” Edelgard asked. 

“And put myself more into the path of the blade?” Catherine replied, almost offended at the insinuation. 

“You were stabbed in the leg after kicking me!”

“Yeah! That’s a hell of a lot better than getting stabbed in the chest!” Catherine shot back. 

“….can you two shut up?” Byleth asked groggily from her spot on the cot, stuck between the two. The entire room went dead silent until the sound of skidding chairs filled the air. Catherine’s seat flew back and toppled over as the knight dropped down, kneeling right beside the professor. 

“Holy shit, Byleth? You’re awake?” Catherine asked, her grin spread from ear to ear. She had dropped her soup bowl in the commotion, and one of her hands was on Byleth’s, the other holding her shoulder just shy of touching her face. 

“Yes, how could I not be with you two screaming like banshees?” Byleth asked, her voice still heavy with the fog of sleep. Catherine laughed. 

“Professor!” Edelgard said from her seat, both her hands on Byleth’s unoccupied one. “We’ve been so worried! The entire class has!” Edelgard said, her grin rivaling Catherines. Byleth looked between the two women holding her hands and the corners of her lips curled up into a tired, yet clearly visible, smile. 

“Where are we? How long have you all been here?” Byleth asked, looking over to Edelgard. 

Jeralt was beyond shocked. This was the most emotion he’d seen from his daughter in the entire time she’d been alive. 

“We’re in the infirmary at Garreg Mach. The others left a few days ago and, well, Catherine and I...we never really left.” Edelgard was blushing a bit, and was thankful for the Professor’s presence being important enough to distract away from it. 

“It’s been about three days. Your dad came up a little while ago to come check up on you.” Catherine said, smiling as she squeezed Byleth’s hand. She squeezed back.

“Hey kid, glad to see you awake. You’ve been out for a while.” Jeralt said, patting Byleth’s knee as it was the closest thing to him. Maybe he had been a bit too hard on Catherine. If she was making Byleth this happy, did he really have a right to complain? But then again maybe it wasn’t like that. She seemed to have smiled just as much at her student. It couldn’t be the same thing then. Jeralt shook his head, the busy thoughts distracting him from the more pressing matter. 

“I’m glad to be up, too. But me being out for three days explains why my back is so damned stiff.” Byleth began trying to sit up as she spoke. Edelgard and Catherine both moved as she threw her legs over to the side, facing towards Jeralt. Edelgard quickly went over to that side as well. 

“That might also have to do with the, you know…” Catherine started awkwardly.

“Abomination-induced blunt force trauma to your entire chest.” Edelgard finished. 

“I mean, I’d’ve found a better way to phrase it but, yeah that. Thanks, princess.”

“Hahaha, you know you may have a point.” Byleth said with a weak chuckle. The sound made Catherine’s heart skip a beat, and Edelgard’s began to beat three times as fast. Jeralt just looked bewildered. Who was this woman and what had Manuela done with his daughter, damnit?

Byleth stretched out her spine, and the sound of rapidly shooting fireworks sounded off. It was only after a moment that Jeralt realised that sound had presumably been every column in his daughter’s spine popping back into place. 

Ok, so maybe this was in fact still his daughter. 

“Would someone help me stand? My legs are feeling a bit weak, and I really need to go bathe. I smell like hell.” Byleth muttered the last part under her breath. 

No. This was absolutely not his daughter. There was no way this was his daughter, the same woman that once marched for three days through a marsh that was used by a nobleman’s castle as the waste dumping ground without a single complaint. 

Catherine was just stuck wondering why everyone was suddenly looking at her. 

Several hours later, Byleth walked out of the bath house that was situated in the same building as the sauna as Catherine walked close behind her, slightly worried that the professor’s legs were going to give out at any moment. She’d been rather shaky for the first chunk of the walk to the bath house, but at this point Catherine really was just being paranoid as she walked Byleth down the stairs, and the two made for Byleth’s dormitory. 

“I told you, I’m fine. Your worry is appreciated, but stop it.” Byleth said, still drying her hair in a towel. 

“I would rather be safe than sorry. Manuela said you should be careful for the next few days, and you wouldn’t let me carry you, so this is what you get. You were out for a while, Letty.” Catherine went bright red when she realized what she had said. Byleth stopped and looked at her, confused. 

“Letty?” She asked. Catherine only went redder, rubbing at the back of her neck. Shit. 

“Uh, yeah. I thought it worked. You know, because of the l e t in Byleth and all. I mean i know it’s stupid with my name being Catherine and all but Byleth can tend to be a mouthful. If you don’t want me to use it, that’s fine..” Catherine said, chuckling awkwardly. Where the hell had all her confidence gone lately? This was just getting annoying. Was it some Eisner family blood magic? 

“No...no I like it.” The weak, faint smile that crossed Byleth’s lips sent Catherine’s poor heart into another conniption as they began walking again. 

“Oh, well, I’m glad.” 

They made their way through the campus until they reached Byleth’s door. Catherine walked her up to it, and the blue haired woman turned, leaning against her door frame and crossing her arms. They had stopped by to grab her some clothes on the way to the bath, but Byleth had forgotten to grab a tunic, so her arms were left exposed by the undershirt she wore. Catherine saw the muscles of her arm pulled taught beneath the skin, which was decorated with the many long, thick scars that ran down most of Byleth’s body, as Catherine knew rather well. Byleth’s face was close to the monotonous blank stare Catherine had come to lo...associate with the professor, but the corners of her mouth were bent just barely up in a way that seemed to give it a breath of life there just hadn’t been before. To a random person, it likely wouldn’t have been noticeable at all. 

“Thank you again, Catherine.” Byleth said, nodding to Catherine, who chuckled and ran a hand through her still-damp hair. Byleth felt something heavy beating itself against her chest as she saw the gesture, and for some reason her face felt very warm. She shook her head and tried to focus back in on Catherine as she spoke. 

“Don’t mention it, Letty. You helped me limp into Manuela’s office after Lonato, I figure helping you limp out is the least I could do.” She said with a shrug, one hand resting on her hip as she spoke. 

“Ha, I guess that makes a certain type of sense.” Byleth said. Catherine wasn’t certain, but she could swear it looked like Byleth was chewing on the inside of her cheek. “So, how was sleeping in those chairs three nights in a row? Couldn’t have been worse than that cot.” Catherine laughed, and Byleth felt that same something thump even harder against her chest. 

“I doubt that cot was worse. Those chairs were hell on my back. I’ve slept in dirt softer than those things. Had Manuela let us, I'm sure we’d both have slept on the floor.” 

“Oh….” Byleth said, quietly. 

“What?” Concern was evident in Catherine’s voice. She’d noticed the professor looking red, and slightly disoriented, and she was worried Byleth was about the keel over. 

“Oh, nothing, that just sounds rough...If you’d like, you could try sleeping on my bed tonight. It’s much softer than those chairs, and it may do some good for your back.” Byleth said, her face going hot again. What the hell was wrong with her? Did she have a fever? That’s just what she needed. 

Catherine however was too busy to notice Byleth’s face going red, as she was looking away trying to hide the fact hers was doing the same. Byleth had never invited her to stay overnight in her room before. Neither of them had really. The occasional rest after training, maybe, but never over night. They both only ever slept in their own quarters. Catherine thought for a moment, and tried to calm the heavy pounding in her rib cage with a deep breath, but not so deep as to be noticeable. 

“You know, I’ve got a little bit of leave, so I don’t think they can get too mad at me for not sleeping in my own quarters. I’d like that.” 

“Well, come in.” Byleth held the door open, and Catherine walked in alongside her. 

The knight hadn’t been sure what she expected when she was invited in, but what did end up happening was much more pleasant. The two of them stayed up for several hours after the sun had set, at least if the amount that had burned off of the candle they’d lit was any indication, talking about most everything they could think of and nothing of any consequence. 

Catherine told some stories of her brawls in shady bars during her days on the run in Faergus, and Byleth told a story about the first mission she’d even run her own team on. Catherine was laid on the bed,hands behind her head while Byleth rested her own on Catherine’s stomach, feeling it move up and down slowly under her as Catherine breathed. Finally, after a long while, they decided it was best to actually get some sleep. 

Byleth blew out the candle while Catherine moved under the covers. She was wearing an undershirt that she’d been given to sleep in, however the difference in the two women’s size and build meant it was pulled rather tight over her ribs and chest, completely exposing her stomach. She simply left the loose cotton pants that were part of her uniform on. Byleth had settled on simply wearing an undershirt and underwear to bed. 

She crawled in beside Catherine, and felt the warmth radiating off of the blonde woman as if she were a furnace. Byleth realized she felt rather cold, in all honesty colder than she ever had before. She wasn’t quite sure if she ever remembered really feeling cold, actually. 

She remembered people talking about the cold, and knowing it was cold, but never feeling it, the way it seeped into her bones as it was right now. She scooted closer, until her body was pressed right against the furnace of a woman. She felt Catherine go rigid like a statue, except for her arm which moved out from behind Byleth. 

“Are you ok?” Byleth asked. 

“Oh, yes, no I’m fine. Um, just don’t really have a good spot for my arm.” Catherine’s laughter after she spoke was strained with awkward tension. 

“Just lay it over me like you did last time we slept on your cot.” 

“Oh, um, is that ok?” Catherine asked. 

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if it wasn’t.” Byleth said. 

“You know that does make sense.” Catherine laid her arm over the woman’s waist, and Catherine was rather shocked at how well Byleth seemed to fit pressed against her as she scooted closer again. 

The two faded off to sleep as Catherine clung tightly to the woman in her arms, whose mind was so blank from exhaustion that she didn’t even realize the silence in the often-occupied space at the back of her consciousness. Catherine’s final thoughts as she drifted to sleep were fleeting.

‘Am I going to hurt you?’ rang through her mind as she felt the professor squeeze her hand, just a bit. She hoped not. However she didn’t have much of a say in the matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, just wanted to say I apologize if this weeks chapter is a bit rougher than usual. My fiance and I finally got to see eachother after over a month apart and I spent most of this weekend cuddling them and reading them pages of Das Kapital from a hammock but I still wanted to give yall some Gay Content. 
> 
> Again, as always check out my Tumblr and Twitter if that's your kind of thing. @dressthesage   
> Thanks the The Unqualified 1 for being an awesome homie and letting me rant about my plot idea in their discord inbox at 2 am.


	13. Chapter 13: Wildfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth is recovered from her injury just in time to be assigned to assist in the search for Flayn. The first taste of food since her injury sends her reeling, but not nearly as much as the incident that caps off her first time taking tea with Edelgard since Miklan's tower. How does Byleth handle herself now that emotions which once sat dull in her heart now burn her from the inside out like a flame? The answer is: Not very fucking well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there everyone! Hope you're all super excited for this weeks update! I know a lot of people really were excited by the shitshow that was last week's chapter, and this week I figured I'd drop an extra-long update to celebrate passing 100k words! I'm absolutely astounded that it's gotten this far, and I'm kind of terrified by the fact that I am only now reaching point 12 in the 64-point plot breakdown I wrote out at the start of all of this. So I really hope you all are in for the long haul lmao. 
> 
> As Always, shout out to my homie The Unqualified 1 for helping me proofread! Go check her shit out! I'm halfway through Stockholm Syndrome and I've messaged her some equivalent of "You motherfucker!!!" like 50 times thus far.

A heavy knocking at the door to her dormitory woke Byleth from a long night’s sleep. After taking a moment to stretch, she crawled out of bed and heard some grumbling from what sounded to be a still mostly-asleep Catherine. She grabbed a pair of pants off of the ground and began pulling them on only to realize mid-way that they were in fact not hers. Catherine had been sharing her bed almost every night for the past week and a half or so, and the ground was littered with both women’s clothing. Byleth tossed aside Catherine’s pants and grabbed a pair of her own, pulling them up and tying them into place quickly as she pulled the door open to be greeted by her father. 

“Morning, kid. I was told to gather you for a meeting with the Archbishop. Throw some clean clothes on and let’s get moving.” Byleth nodded. 

“Yes sir.” She replied, closing the door in his face and moving over to her pile of hopefully-clean laundry. She dressed quickly and had started on her armor when Catherine stood up from the bed, her arms stretching up into the air. 

She had packed a few pairs of the shorts she tended to wear for her sleeping, and some actually properly fitting undershirts, and she was dressed in exactly that as she walked to the professor. Byleth chuckled as she saw the familiar outline in the front of Catherine’s shorts, but thought not to make any comments. 

“What’s up? You got a hot date?” Catherine asked, gesturing towards Byleth getting dressed as she moved to sit on the edge of the desk. 

“No. My father is grabbing me for a meeting with the Archbishop.” Catherine began looking for some of her own clothes in the clean pile, throwing a sports bra on as they continued talking. 

“Allright, sounds like I ought to wait till you’re gone to head out, then.” she said quietly. 

“Why?” Byleth looked at Catherine, rather curious. 

“I just think I would rather avoid speaking to my commanding officer when I’m literally walking out of his daughter’s bedroom if I can. That’s not exactly fun dining hall conversation.” Catherine explained as she pulled her boots, armor and half-cape into place. 

“Fair point.” Byleth said, strapping her short sword onto her waist. 

“I’m full of them.” Catherine began walking away, only to grow a devilish grin and turn back as Byleth leaned over to strap her boots in place.

“You’re certainly full of something.” When Byleth stood back up, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her midsection, something pressing into her lower back, and a familiar set of lips tickling her neck. 

“Are you free tonight?” Catherine asked, her voice a hushed whisper. 

“That will depend on the meeting.” Byleth said, swatting at Catherine who moved away, laughing. Byleth rolled her eyes as if she were annoyed but her mouth was curved just barely into a smile. 

“Well, if you are, find me in the dining hall and we can grab a drink. Your treat.”

“Why is that, exactly?” Byleth asked, finishing her preparation and facing her companion. 

“Because you never covered that round you promised back at the tower.” Catherine said, stepping closer and resting her hands on the desk on either side of Byleth’s hips. Byleth had to lean back just a bit, but even with that there was barely inches between their faces. Catherine had that oh-so-familiar self-assured grin on. 

“Hmm, that’s fair. Well, if I can, I’ll see you at dinner.” Byleth gave Catherine a peck on the lips and then grabbed both of the knight’s wrists, lifting them with ease and moving from between her and the table. 

Catherine laid back down on the bed, towards the wall to make as little of her visible from the doorway as possible, and Byleth exited quickly. 

“You ready, kid? Took you awhile.” Jeralt moved from the spot he’d taken, sat on the edge of the stone steps leading up to the dormitories. Byleth nodded, and Jeralt took a second as he saw the very edges of his daughter’s mouth were curved up. It was barely noticeable, but to him it was more emotion from his daughter than he’d seen in entire years before she’d begun working here at the Monastery. “Good. Give me just a moment.” Jeralt held up a hand as he spoke, then walked over to the door to Byleth’s room and opened it. He stuck his head in and looked around for a moment before locking eyes with a very startled looking Catherine. “The Archbishop wants you in the Audience Chamber at noon. Don’t be late.” He said, walking out and closing the door behind him, then heading down the steps and off towards the fish pond, Byleth close behind him. 

“How did…” Byleth asked, gesturing back to her dorm as they walked. 

“She wasn’t in the barracks when I went to inform her this morning, so I took a guess.” He replied, a tired grin on his face. Byleth let a quick rush of air out of her nose in a weak chuckle. 

“Ah, ok.” 

“Just...be careful about mixing your personal life and missions, kiddo.” Jeralt looked over to her again as they walked through a gate and the maze of paths and hedges, towards the entrance to the dining hall. 

He had been so afraid of what would happen to her when they’d come here originally. He’d, in all honesty, debated crippling as many knights as necessary and then running into the woods to escape Alois when he started walking them here from Rhemire, and had it not been for his men he might have done it too. That march had felt like the walk of a doomed man to his gallows. 

This place had taken so much from him already, the risk of it taking Byleth had terrified him. It took his wife. It took years of his life in service to that terrifying snake of a woman, Rhea. What it had taken from his daughter, he never could place, but he knew something was missing. 

When he’d lit the fire all those years ago, he had hoped that it would burn the entire monastery to ash. But he was able to use it to fake Byleth’s death and take her far away from this, so he wasn’t too disappointed that the campus had been left standing. Now it seemed returning here had given Byleth back something of what she’d lost, whatever it was that had been. It was heartwarming to actually see his little girl smile, even if it was only ever barely. 

They walked through the halls of the main building, but where they would usually turn left to take the stairs towards the audience chamber, they instead turned right and walked out of the building. 

“We’re not going to the meeting, are we?” Byleth knew the answer, but the question was more in the implied ‘so where are we going then?’. 

“Not just yet. We’ve got some time to spare, and we’re going somewhere important first.” Jeralt said, his voice heavy in a way Byleth couldn’t read. It made her worry. He led her to a small staircase, besides which was a large bench that overlooked the mountains out past Garreg Mach. He led her down and around the side of the staircase, to where a small group of graves stood, backed by the distant view of the mountains. Byleth looked even more confused as Jeralt reached into a small pouch that hung from his belt, pulling out a small, slightly smashed flower and laying it on one of the graves. 

He stayed there, knelt beside the headstone and Byleth could only stand there, a few feet behind him, wondering what was going on until finally she walked over and knelt beside her father. 

The name Sitri Eisner was written on the stone. 

. “Byleth… meet your mother.” Jeralt said, gesturing to the grave. The words sounded as if they stung his throat as he spoke, like vomiting thistle. 

“How….why is she here? You said she was buried in the woods outside of Remire…” 

“I said a lot of things. I’m sorry for that...” Byleth heard the shame in his voice. “That’s why I wanted to bring you here. Your mother was a nun here at Garreg Mach.” 

“...Why didn’t you tell me?” Byleth asked, her voice cracking a bit. She felt like she was dying. Her eyes stung and in the center of her chest there was the feeling of a terrifying, aching emptiness. 

“...I was afraid. Afraid that if I did you’d want to come back here, to see where your mother came from, where she was laid to rest.” 

There was a long moment of silence between them. 

“How...how did she die?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But she needed to. Her father opened his mouth but hesitated. He sighed and rubbed at the scruff on his chin, pondering his words carefully. 

“She didn’t die in combat, and she didn’t die of a plague. The Archbishop told me she died in childbirth.” 

“You don’t believe her.” Byleth pointed out the implication of how he’d phrased it, and he sighed before moving to stand up, leaning against the small stone wall behind the graves. Byleth did the same. 

“I didn’t. I don’t. But at the same time there’s plenty of reason to believe it. She was always rather sickly, and that possibility had been a concern from the moment we found out we were having you. But she wasn’t afraid. She was never afraid. I had never met someone with so little knowledge of combat who still had so little fear. She was braver than any soldier I've ever fought beside.” Her father’s face was twisted into a smile that almost seemed to pain him, his eyes trying their best to blink away the building deluge of tears. Byleth reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder, but this seemed to only make it worse for him. “I’m sorry, this has to be a lot for you, and I'm the one who’s tearing up.” he laughed as he said it, like a joke. 

“It’s ok, Dad.” Jeralt blinked and looked at her as if she had spoken Dagdan. He was certain that was the first time his daughter had ever called him dad, or anything besides ‘sir’ or ‘captain’ or ‘Jeralt’. Even as a child she usually just pointed at him whenever she referred to him. That was the last straw, and Jeralt felt tears trickle down his cheek and into the scruff of his beard. “What was she like?” Byleth asked, gesturing to her mother’s grave. Jeralt seemed not to hear her, and Byleth felt her father’s hand on her shoulder. Before she knew it she was being pulled into a hug. 

His breathing was weak and ragged as he squeezed his arms around her. She reached around him and returned the hug, that empty ache in her chest still there, but now she felt as if it had been engulfed in something warm. It was as if she’d doused a block of ice with a boiling pot of tea and were watching it melt under the heat. Her eyes stung and she felt a strange pounding in her chest as well as leaking down the sides of her cheeks. 

She was crying. She’d never done that before. She underestimated how much the salt would sting her eyes. They stood there for a long while, both crying as Byleth’s question went unanswered. For some reason she was unbothered by that fact. After however long had passed, they heard the bell toll 11. Jeralt sniffed a bit and pulled away, patting his daughter’s shoulder and smiling at her as he gestured towards the stairs. 

“Lets go sit in my office. I’ve got plenty to tell, but I… I need a drink.” Jeralt said. 

Up in the office, Byleth took a seat across from her father as he pulled a bottle of lager from a small ice chest in one corner, popping the cap off on the corner of his desk. He leaned back in his seat as he began talking. 

“Your mother was the kindest woman I have ever met, and likely will ever meet again. I don’t think there is a person in the world that didn’t like her. She was one of the head healers here at the monastery and she used to be based in the office Manuela currently occupies.” Jeralt gestured over towards that side of the building. “When I was captain of the guard, the first time around, I would pass her in the halls and the stairwells all the time. She would always say hi. No matter what she was doing, what it would interrupt, who she was speaking to at the time, she’d always say hello.” Jeralt smiled that pained smile and took a moment to sip his drink. 

“So how did you two actually, well, end up together?” Byleth asked in the gap in the conversation. Jeralt waved it off, pulling his lips from the bottle quickly. 

“I’m getting there, kiddo, just be patient.” Byleth rolled her eyes. “So, this had been going on for about five years at this point, and I had been sent by Rhea to accompany some important monks on route to the west. On our return a group of bandits raided our party. Thankfully everyone was ok, but I ended up with several arrows in my arms and legs.  
I swear, to this day I don’t know what I did to piss off those archers, but I must’ve done something because I was the only one to be shot. Well, my men carried me back to the Monastery, and I ended up in your mother’s office. Once she’d finally pulled the arrows out and patched me up, I had to spend a day there, for observation just in case something had gone wrong, she had told me.  
Sometime during that day and night we ended up talking, and she… she had the sweetest laugh. I remember her commenting that I seemed so much more talkative when I had a few freshly stitched wounds than in the halls, and that she was worried she bothered me whenever she said hi because I never spoke to her much beyond saying hello back.” Jeralt chuckled again and shook his head. “So I had to explain to her that over multiple years of working in the same school, hell, the same building as her I had failed to learn her name.” Jeralt laughed again and Byleth couldn’t help but join him. 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I swear on my life I am. She couldn’t stop laughing, and said that since I had been so rude as to not learn or even ask her for her name, the least I could do was buy her dinner. I agreed, and she spent the entire night asking me question after question about my missions. She loved hearing my stories.  
Well, the next evening after I was released, we went to a small restaurant in one of the villages near here. It was nice, but I’ll admit it was a little awkward. I think she was onto something about me being more talkative when I am injured, hahaha. But, while I thought that was the end of that, a few days later she came by my office and asked about a mission I’d just recently gotten back from. I told her about it,and it ended up taking so long we had to go grab dinner from the dining hall or risk missing out on the meal entirely.  
So I finished the story over a bowl of lukewarm stew, and after that it just became our little tradition. Every week we’d grab dinner and she’d ask me about my missions. Then after a while it was twice a week, then every few days, and then every other day. Then it turned into me taking more meals with her than without her.” Jeralt looked out the window to his side, sighing a bit as the bittersweet memory filled his heart with warmth and his gut with an empty ache. 

“When did it become romantic, not just professional?” Byleth asked. 

“Oh, it happened pretty quickly after we started eating dinners together. Everyone around us seemed to realize we were together before we did. Although, that might have been just me. I never was all that versed in romance, seems like you got that from me along with your hairstyle.” He gestured to her short, choppy blue hair that, excluding the rat tail, was almost identical to her father’s. “After probably two or three months of eating dinner together two or three times a week, I was assigned to guard your mother on a trip to Faergus.” 

“What happened to ‘don’t let your personal life get in the way of a mission’?” 

“Do as I say, not as I do, kiddo. As I was saying, we were setting up camp, and your mother asked me to help her set up her tent. She’d never asked that type of stuff before. She was always rather un-built for physical labor and was not exactly coordinated, even as a mage, but she was stubborn. She was always adamant about being able to do things on her own. I did as she asked, helped her set it up and I was just about to go put up my own sleeping arrangements. She goes to walk into her tent, turns around, grabs me by my shirt collar and pulls me down.” Jeralt tugs a bit on his own collar as if to emphasize his point. “Mind you, this woman was six inches shorter than me, at least, and easily 200 pounds lighter. But still, she yanks me down and kisses me. After that, we took our dinner together every night.” Byleth couldn’t help but laugh at just how ridiculous her father was and, as it seemed, had always been. 

“So, she is the one who talked to you, and the one who kissed you first. Did she propose too?” Byleth asked, gesturing to the green stone on his finger he’d always worn as long as she could remember.

“No. That was me.” Jeralt pointed his lager at her as if in an ‘watch it!’ gesture. “It was on the night of the ball, the same one that’s coming up in a few months actually. We were both chaperones meant to keep the students in line, but that year’s class was small and mostly kept to themselves. So we ended up sneaking off together and sitting in the Goddess tower. We were talking the hours away until the bell hit midnight. I helped her to her feet since she was wearing these ridiculous heeled shoes, and once she was stable I took a knee, and showed her this.” He reached down the front of his shirt, pulling out a long silver chain, on the end of which was a silver ring with a small starburst pattern of purple stones. “She said yes before I’d even finished asking. Not a month later we were wed, right in that same tower.  
I swear that was the first and only time I ever saw your mother’s hair in any kind of order. She had this long mess of green hair that just refused to be tamed. It’s a lot like how yours was when you had it long as a kid. That’s one of the reasons I was so happy when you asked me to cut your hair like mine back then. It meant I didn’t have to spend so much time picking twigs out of it” Jeralt smiled softly and shook his head again, finishing his bottle of lager. 

“That’s very sweet.” Byleth said, running her hand through her hair in a gesture Jeralt found oddly familiar. It took him a moment to realize from where. He chuckled and toyed with the ring on the chain around his neck, looking over at his daughter with the concern only a father could show.

Maybe Byleth had already found her someone, or perhaps she hadn’t and it was just a matter of convenience for the two of them. It wasn’t quite his to pry into, but he just wanted what made his little girl happy, and at the moment this, the Monastery, Catherine, her students, they seemed to be doing that better than he’d ever been able to as a father. 

“She was the sweetest woman I had ever met.” His voice wavered as he spoke. “I don’t think I've seen anyone since or before who had the amount of love for everyone around them that your mother did. I hope to give you this ring when and if you ever decide to settle down with a nice woman yourself.” He said, gesturing to the one on the chain. “And my own ring, likely.” 

“Thanks, dad.” Byleth said quietly, monotone but with her eyes glowing in appreciation. Or perhaps that was simply unshed tears. Either way, Jeralt couldn’t help but smile. 

“Of course, kiddo. It was actually your grandfather’s wedding ring originally. They’re things I want to keep in our family, so it only makes sense.” 

“I meant for telling me about mom, not the rings.” Jeralt only smiled wider. 

“Of course, kid. Any time. Now come on.” He knocked on the wood of the desk as he stood. “We’ll be late to the meeting if we don’t get moving.” Byleth nodded, and they made their way to the Audience Chamber. The bell tolled noon as they walked inside. Catherine stood in front of the Archbishop, arms crossed as they spoke about something Byleth couldn’t hear. She saw Seteth close beside Rhea. To her surprise his gaze was empty of the anger it had held for several months now. He just seemed exhausted. 

“Professor, Jeralt. I’m so glad you could make it.” Rhea bowed to them, and they returned the gesture as she spoke. Catherine bowed alongside Rhea, smiling at Byleth before turning back to face the Archbishop. “I’m unsure how much you know of the current situation, given your recovery from such a terrible accident, but I can assure you we would not ask you to come back to duty so quickly were it not vital.” Byleth nodded, her expression blank. “Flayn, the sister of Lord Seteth, has gone missing. Worse even, there are rumors around the Monastery of a grim visage of death reminiscent of the man you described from the Rite of Rebirth has been seen running off with other students in tow. People are raving that this ‘Death Knight’ is the one who has taken Flayn, and we are calling you and your class to action to assist us in the search.” 

“The Archbishop has informed me my men are being pulled from leave. We’ll be assisting in the search for Flayn in the areas around Garreg Mach, particularly the towns and villages around us.” Catherine said, her tone sounding professional but her posture read clear as day to Byleth. She was disappointed. It seemed that that drink would have to wait. 

“Professor Eisner…” Seteth started, swallowing deeply before looking up at her. “I know we have not seen eye to eye since you arrived here at the academy, but…please, don’t let paying that price fall onto Flayn.” Jeralt bit his cheek, seeing a similar desperation in Seteth’s eyes as he had held in his own when he heard the news of what had happened to Byleth the month prior. He supposed the concern of an older brother and that of a father couldn’t be too dissimilar. 

Byleth walked forward, stepping towards Seteth, and for a moment Jeralt expected her to hit him. After hearing of some of the altercations the two of them had had in the past, he wouldn’t have doubted it but he expected her to have better timing for that sort of thing. 

“My students and I will find her.” Byleth said, patting the man's shoulder with her gauntlet-clad hand. Seteth nodded, looking away as if he was ashamed to need her help. 

“You have your orders, now go. I’m sure your students have appreciated their breaks from training, now it’s time for them to get back to it.” Rhea said, dismissing them all. 

Catherine was the first to speak as the three stood outside of the exit to the Audience Chambers. 

“Guess you managed to weasel your way out of that drink yet again.” Catherine said, nudging Byleth with her elbow. The instructor rolled her eyes and shoved the woman back with her shoulder, earning her a laugh that made that same warm feeling from earlier return. 

“Ok, you two. Don’t you have orders to fulfil?” Jeralt asked, a bit joking and at the same time not. They walked away into the early afternoon sun as it showed down on the monastery. Once they reached a point where they both knew they had to diverge paths, they paused. 

“I’ll get you that drink, someday. Just be careful and don’t get yourself hurt.” Byleth ordered. Catherine looked her up and down, smiling as she leaned closer. 

“Damn, I guess a drink with you is pretty good motivation.” Catherine teased, her smile growing wider as she saw the corner of Letty’s lips perk up. 

“Yeah, that and the fact if you do get her I’ll drag your ass out of the infirmary or hell, whichever you end up in, and knock some sense into you myself.” Catherine went a little wide eyed, but she could read the playfulness in Byleth’s words. It was barely there, but after a while she’d gotten used to Byleth’s way of communicating, and those things were easier to pick up on. 

“Well, ok then. Guess there goes my plan of getting my sword arm impaled for an early retirement. Guess I’ll have to tell Joe I’m punking out.” Catherine sighed melodramatically, and was about to stand back up when she felt Byleth’s lips pressed against her cheek. 

“Just quit being a jackass and don’t get killed.” Byleth saw Catherine, a woman who had done absolutely unspeakable things to her in the most inappropriate locations on the campus blush bright red from a simple peck on the cheek. She shot up and laughed nervously, rubbing at the back of her neck. 

“You got it, Letty. You too.” She said, walking away quickly. Byleth was a bit confused, as Catherine’s last sentence hadn’t exactly made sense, but she didn’t think too much of it. She walked off, eventually looking into the Black Eagle’s classroom, only to find it completely empty. She left and wandered around the grounds in search of her students, but she couldn’t find them at any of their usual spots. Caspar was not in the dining hall, nor was Linhardt or Ashe in the library, and Leonie was completely absent from the arena. She could find none of them.

After a while, she figured she had nowhere left to check but the training field. Sure enough, she found her class in their training gear, sparring. She heard their wooden practice weapons thwacking against each other as they all slowly realized she was approaching. Edelgard quit her sparring match against Petra, which the heiress was thankful for considering how badly she was losing, and smiled as the Professor approached. 

“Professor! I’m glad to see you up and about!” Edelgard said, Byleth chuckled and shook her head, looking as her student’s gathered around her. 

“What are you all doing out here?” Byleth asked, disbelief in her voice. 

“Well, isn’t that kind of obvious, professor?” Caspar asked, gesturing to the axe in his hands. “We’re training!” 

“Well yes, I can see that. But you all had a break, is this how you’ve been spending it?” Byleth asked again.

“Well, to put it bluntly, yes.” Ferdinand said, stabbing his sword into the ground. 

“Caspar, Ashe and I have been making sure we kept up our physical training while you were recovering.” Leonie said, huffing slightly as she leaned on her lance. Ashe wiped away a bit of sweat from a spot behind her, leaning on an old wooden axe like a cane. 

“And Hubert helped me come up with some effective drills for Faith and Reason training.” Linhardt butted in. Hubert stood close behind Edelgard with a rather pleased-with-himself smirk on his thin lips. 

“All under the guidance and leadership of Lady Edelgard, of course. It was her idea to begin with.” Hubert made sure to note, causing the princess to blush slightly. Byleth assumed it must’ve been embarrassment at being praised in front of her comrades. 

“It was nothing. I assured them all that if they kept up with their studies and training, it would be less painful to come back to it once you were ok.” Edelgard said, trying her best to dismiss the praise. 

“Well, whatever the reason, you did a good job, Edelgard.” Byleth pat the girl on the shoulder and turned to the rest of the class. “As I’m sure you all have already heard” she glanced at Dorothea. “The man in the armor we saw in the catacombs last month appears to have taken Flayn. The Knights of Seiros are searching the towns, forests and villages nearby, and we have been put in charge of searching the Monastery. We will begin our search tomorrow. Meet me at the classroom after breakfast to recieve your assignments. Until then, you’re all free to enjoy the rest of your afternoon. Dismissed.” The class began flocking off towards this or that segment of the monastery to enjoy themselves, each person passing by to give some kind of welcome back. 

Edelgard was about to leave as well when she saw Byleth undoing her boots in the middle of the field, along with other pieces of her armor. She watched as her Professor finished removing the heavy platemale and began to stretch, doing the routine she had taught all of them to do before training. Edelgard turned back to Hubert.

“Go on without me, I need to see what exactly the professor is up to.” 

“But Lady Edelgard we really must discuss…” 

“Later, Hubert. Away from prying ears.” Edelgard whispered, no room for disagreement in her voice. Hubert sighed, bowing as he took his leave. Edelgard continued her move towards Byleth. “Professor, what are you doing?” 

“Preparing to train. You all have kept your routines, but I've spent the better part of a week and a half on bedrest.” Byleth said, dropping to the ground as she began doing slow, methodical pushups.

“A week and a half? I thought Manuela only said to be sure not to strain yourself the first two days?” Edelgard asked incredulously. 

“She did. But don’t forget the three days I spent on that damned cot. Even after all that, Catherine was adamant that I not do anything that may overexert myself. She wouldn’t even let me walk to get my own food until I threatened to kick her out. But she’s left for her own mission, so thankfully I can make up for lost time.” Byleth’s every other word was interrupted by a pushup, and Edelgard laughed at the image of Catherine babying the Professor so intensely. 

“Well, then you certainly do have quite a bit of catching up to do. Would you like a sparring partner?” Edelgard asked, hefting the heavy wooden axe in her hand. Byleth paused her pushups and chuckled. Nodding as she looked up at the girl. 

“Yes, that would be appreciated. Before sparring, however, I need you to sit on me.” Edelgard went bright red.

“What?!” She just barely managed not to yell. 

“I need more weight to make up for the fact I can't wear my armor in training. Having someone sit on my back helps. You could stand as well, if you think you can stay balanced.” Byleth explained, not quite sure what was so ridiculous about the question. It was rather common during her training as a mercenary. Edelgard laughed nervously and mumbled something Byleth couldn’t quite hear as she awkwardly positioned herself to sit on the professors back, and soon enough the pushups resumed. She could hear Edelgard exclaiming as she tried to stay balanced. 

It was shocking for her to say, but Edelgard was rather glad to see that even with the change in the Professor since her accident, she still seemed to be the same dense, tactless woman Edelgard had despised those first few weeks and that she had grown to...respect. 

After their warmup was complete, Byleth and Edelgard readied for a sparring match. Edelgard held her wooden axe with a well practiced grip, not too tight yet not loose enough to risk losing her grasp. Byleth stood, wood gauntlet's at the ready. 

Edelgard charged forward, aiming a strike at the Professor’s legs, only to have it blocked with one hand as Byleth swung her fist around. The wooden gauntlet connected with nothing but empty air as Edelgard shifted back and out of it’s path. 

Byleth smiled at the move, dropping her already low posture even farther, bracing one hand on the ground as she swung her leg out, intent on swiping her student’s legs out from beneath her. However Edelgard saw the attack coming, and managed to jump above the offending limb. 

Byleth realized she’d left herself in a rather difficult position, and just managed to roll out of the path of the retaliatory axe-swing that followed her failed take-down. She pushed up from the ground, gritting her teeth as the tired and strained muscles ached from the motion, and returned to her feet in time to raise her fist and block the oncoming follow-up strike. 

Edelgard knocked one of her Professor’s fists off-course from a counter-strike with the handle of her axe and followed it with another handle-strike to her Professor’s stomach, knocking the wind out of her with a grunt. Byleth grabbed the axe handle as it was pulled away, yanking it back and nearly out of Edelgard’s hands. However, the young woman kept her grasp and, rather than be disarmed, charged forward and knocked her shoulder into Byleth’s chest, pushing the instructor back and loosening her grasp on the weapon. 

Byleth steadied herself, dodging out of one axe-swing and then another, and finally a third after that. Once that third strike missed, she saw her opening and took it, lashing out and connecting with the bulk of muscle in the center of Edelgard’s forearm, before grabbing with one hand Edelgard’s training uniform, and with the other the handle of the axe. This time she managed to pull the weapon loose and tossed it aside. 

“It seems I haven’t gone too rusty in my…” Byleth felt a boot in her stomach, and dropped her student, who quickly leapt over the now-kneeling woman and grasped her axe. Edelgard turned back just as Byleth began to try and stand and face her. That however was quickly put to a stop when Edelgard held the dull wooden ‘blade’ of her axe to the Professor’s throat. 

“The match isn’t over until the whistle.” Edelgard taunted, leaning down just a bit. Byleth chuckled, now knelt at Edelgard’s feet with a blade to her throat. For some reason she couldn’t quite understand, she wasn’t too upset at the loss. In fact, she was smiling as she looked Edelgard in the eye and let out a short, 2-note whistle. It almost sounded like a bird call. Byleth enjoyed being able to resume her training, but she couldn’t help but wonder what the heavy thudding against her ribcage was.

As the sun began setting in the distance, Byleth bid Edelgard goodbye, both of them tired from a long afternoon’s training. However she was not allowed to leave until Edelgard had repeatedly reminded her that they would be taking tea together this upcoming sunday. Once Byleth had agreed, she left for the dormitory. 

She sat at her desk and pulled a map of the monastery grounds from one of her drawers. She began looking over the various segments of the school, marking off zones for the student’s to search the next day. 

“Have any helpful advice on where to start searching tomorrow?” Byleth asked out loud. No one replied. “Sothis?” Byleth muttered, trying to focus on the area in the back of her mind where she always felt the goddess’s presence. Only now it felt strange. She could feel it there, but it was like it had been chipped away somewhat. “Sothis?” Byleth said, worry evident in her voice, but the goddess was silent. Byleth sighed and ran her hands through her hair. It was starting to grow out. She’d need to chop it short later. She tried to calm herself and thought that perhaps the ordeal with the beast had just exhausted Sothis and she’d need a few more days to rest. She had no reason to worry. 

This type of thing had happened before, it would be fine. 

It had to be fine.

As time went on, she felt so very, dreadfully alone. 

If only she knew this was only the beginning.  
. 

The next few days flew by for the Black Eagles. Each day the students would come to the classroom, be assigned a partner and a section of the Monastery to search. It was the third day of searching so far, and the peaceful Saturday breeze felt cool against Ashe’s skin. 

“I just don’t understand where she could have gone. Yeah, Garreg Mach is big, but only so big. Could she have been kidnapped? Would she even still be on the grounds if she was?” Leonie pondered aloud, walking alongside her classmate as they looked at the map of their segment to search for the day. It was from the entrance to the catacombs, which was still under repair from Professor Eisner’s can-can routine during the Rite of Rebirth, throughout the Cathedral and the few scattered courtyards surrounding it. Then another few people would search the bridge and the first floor of the offices, and then a few more on every other floor. The idea being that no one should be far enough away they couldn’t be heard if they screamed for help. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure. She could have been kidnapped, I suppose. But if so we’d have likely had something sent, either a threat, a ransom demand, something. I just hope she’s ok. Flayn seems so nice.” Ashe kicked a small pebble away, sighing. 

“I’m sure she will be Ashe.” Leonie mumbled as she looked back at the map. 

“I mean, we can’t be sure though. I heard something like this happened last year too. Some poor girl went missing and she was never heard from again.” Ashe tried not to think about the possibilities of what that could mean, for that girl or for Flayn. 

“Oh, don’t have a heart attack Ashe. I heard that same story. I’m pretty sure that girl just ran off because military life wasn’t for her. Flayn is going to be fine. But you won’t be if you stress yourself out over all of this.” Leonie shoved Ashe by the shoulder, earning a laugh. 

“Fine, but quit your shoving. I can’t help look if you push me off the side of the bridge.” Ashe shot back. Leonie grew a devilish look in her eyes and Ashe instantly regretted what she’d said. 

“Or can you!” Leonie shouted, lunging out with her hands at the now-terrified student. Ashe managed to dodge her hands, but it was rather obvious Leonie hadn’t been trying very hard. She did however enjoy the wide grin that grew on Ashe’s face. 

“Leonie! Cut it out!” Ashe said, backing away slowly. 

“Fine, killjoy.” Leonie grumbled. 

Nothing was found that day. Nor the day after that. 

No one found Flayn, Byleth heard nothing from Sothis, and Catherine was still away from the Monastery. When Byleth heard a knock on her door that Sunday morning, she was relieved beyond words. Edelgard was visibly startled by how quickly the door swung open. 

“Hello, professor. Are you free for tea?” Edelgard asked, holding up the lightly steaming pot. 

“Of course. Believe me, if there’s one thing I’m in need of right now, it’s good company.” Byleth said, completely oblivious to the light blush that put on her student’s cheeks.

So the professor thought of her as good company? That was nice. Was that the word? It was the best Edelgard could think of as the two walked to their usual spot under the gazebo. A space that was currently occupied by a rather lost-in-conversation pair of Edelgard’s classmates, Hubert Von Vestra and Ferdinand Von Aegir.

Thankfully, the two hadn’t seemed to notice them as they walked towards the gazebo. However Edelgard wasn’t quite sure where else they could go. Sure they could drink their tea in the dining hall, but that would be rather disappointing. She enjoyed the gazebo, she enjoyed sitting in the shade with her Professor, and it had become a bit of a tradition she’d come to cherish. 

She had been forlorn when Byleth had missed the week before’s tea session, but was understanding of the fact she was healing from her injuries. But she’d be damned to miss a second week in a row due to seating concerns. Edelgard chewed her cheek a bit, trying to think of a place to go instead. 

“I have an idea.” Byleth said before Edelgard had even had a moment’s time to think. Byleth grabbed her hand and pulled her along, nearly yanking the teapot free and putting an almost beat red hue onto Edelgard’s face. The two sped down a path that led directly to the fish pond. 

“Professor, I don’t think this is the most appropriate place to take our tea.” Edelgard said, rubbing the bridge of her nose after finally managing to calm herself enough to speak evenly. 

“What’s the matter with it?” Byleth asked, sitting on the stone ledge overlooking the water as it flowed in from the canal that diverted away from the river. The Professor held her hand out, gesturing for Edelgard to give her something, and the princess could only sigh and shake her head as she reluctantly released her grip on the small kettle. 

“ Well, to start you’re sitting on the ground, partially dangling yourself over a fishing pond.” Edelgard gestured to the entire area around them, finishing by waving her hand vaguely in the direction of Byleth’s legs. 

“I don’t see a problem.” Byleth said, gesturing to the ground beside her. “Give it a try?” 

Edelgard thought it would be no worse than some of the conditions they’d had during their missions, and finally took the seat that was offered to her. She kept the pastry box in her lap as Byleth handed her a cup of tea, and the two watched the water lazily flow into the pond as they drank the fresh Bergamot brew. 

Byleth took a long drink off of her cup, as she usually did when they took their tea together. As the liquid hit her tongue, however, she felt her senses becoming rather overloaded. 

She’d been told to keep her diet to simple enough foods, water, porridge, greens and some other scattered items Manuela said might be best for helping provide her body with nutrients to help solidify her newly reformed bones. To put it bluntly, she ate food that had little in the way of flavor or taste. This tea however was different. She could feel a tingle on her tongue as the rich, bitter taste flooded her senses. 

“Professor? Are you ok? You look as if you might be ill.” Edelgard said, Byleth shook her head. 

“No, no I’m fine. Just...a very good cup of tea.” she said, holding up the cup slightly as if to indicate which one she meant. Which seemed stupid to do, what other cup would she be talking about? Edelgard’s? 

“Oh, well I’m glad you enjoy it so much.” Edelgard looked down at her own cup. She had actually thought the brew was rather watery, but if the Professor was enjoying it she wasn’t one to complain. She diverted her attention to a much more pressing matter, the rather generously loaded box of sweats the cooks had given her that morning. 

She popped open the lid and grabbed a large pastry, biting into it hungrily. It was strawberry, not her favorite, but most assuredly pleasant. 

Byleth wasn’t even thinking as she reached over and plucked out her own sweetbread, popping the entire thing into her mouth. Edelgard rolled her eyes at the wastefulness of just cramming an entire pastry into one’s face. 

Byleth however was distracted from the dismissive gesture by the flood of new flavors that were practically slamming themselves against her tongue. It took her a moment to realize that she really was not enjoying these new flavors. She coughed a bit, leaning forward and spitting the mouth full of pastry into the pond, where fish quickly began to pick at it. 

“Professor!” Edelgard said, looking at the bundle of pastry as it floated on the surface of the water. Oh of course, It was a Raspberry pastry she had decided to waste, just to add insult to injury. 

“Sorry...goddess… It was just so...it was as if I had poured putrid sugar into my mouth. ” Byleth washed the flavor away with another sip of tea. She wiped some tea and pastry from her face. 

“Do..do you mean it was tart, Professor?” Edelgard asked incredulously. 

“Is that what tart is!?” Byleth asked, confusion clear on her eyes. Edelgard laughed and shook her head. 

“Professor, you act as if you have never tasted food before.” Edelgard looked beyond confounded. 

“I...not like that. That was just so intense.” Byleth said, her elbows resting on her knees as she looked at the water. 

“You really are so strange, Professor.” Edelgard said, plucking a new pastry from the box and offering it to her. 

“No thank you. I think I have had enough new flavors today.” Edelgard shrugged and took a bite out of the pastry in her hand. It was her loss. She chewed away at her baked goods, washing them down with her tea as the two watched the slow lapping of the water against the far wall of the pond. A comfortable silence settled over the two as they sat together, watching the waves and the occasional jumping fish. 

Soon enough, however, Edelgard looked over and saw her professor, a small scar along her eyebrow, jaw set as she were deep in thought, and couldn’t help but blush again as she felt a familiar tension fall onto her shoulders. It seemed to be there whenever she thought about the Professor for long. She had, for months now, felt it there sitting between them. At first she thought it was something akin to disgust, or rage, back when her and the Professor were so constantly at odds. Then as she grew to know the professor, she thought it might’ve been a sort of professional respect. Now however Edelgard wasn’t quite sure what it was. She quickly tried to find a topic to discuss to distract herself. 

“Do you enjoy fishing, professor?” Edelgard asked. She supposed it was as good a topic as any. 

“No, actually. Never was quite to my liking. Plus, we never really had fishing poles when I was growing up. We weren’t around fishable bodies of water enough for them to be practical to have, and when we were around them we would tend to find it easier to trade with nearby fishermen then catch them ourselves. Why do you ask?” Byleth wondered, looking over her shoulder. 

“Oh, it just seemed like the type of thing you might enjoy.” Edelgard remarked. 

“And what makes you say that? Do I come across as tedious and damp?” Edelgard turned and faced her, rather shocked to hear what she couldn’t help but think was a joke from her Professor. 

Their eyes seemed to meet, and Byleth found it difficult to look away, not that she really tried, or wanted to for that matter. The lilac hue of Edelgard’s irises struck her as if she had been smacked upside the head with an iron rod. She felt that strange heavy thumping in her chest, faster now than it had been during any of her training. 

“No, not at all. I just meant more…” Edelgard struggled for a moment to find her own words, as she noticed a sort of motion underneath the light blue of Byleth’s eyes that seemed so very new, but at the same time familiar. “Calm, and perhaps soothing.” Edelgard muttered. Byleth’s lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile that Edelgard noticed easily. 

“Well, I'm glad to hear that you think of me like that.” Byleth was trying to parse what exactly was going through her mind at that moment, as her head and her chest seemed stirred up into a chaotic frenzy.

It was ironic, considering what she had just said about having enough new flavors for the day, that the only thing she could really tell apart from the noise was an overwhelming urge to find out exactly what Edelgard’s lips, which were dusted with pastry flakes, tasted like. 

Edelgard felt her heart beating like a wyvern’s wings. The tension she felt, and had been trying to lighten, now pressed on her more intensely than ever before. Whatever, exactly, it was she didn’t know or care. All she knew was it was wrapped around her throat like a collar, pulling her in as she began leaning forward.

Neither gave any real thought to what they were doing as they inched closer. Time almost seemed to slow around them. 

Before either could finally close the gap, a loud voice called out in the distance behind them. 

“Professor! Professor, come quick!” rang out through the courtyard. Byleth and Edelgard snapped up, both various shades of red, and turned to see Caspar sprinting towards them with eyes full of panic. 

-

“Catherine, wake the fuck up.” Fredrique said, slapping her on the back of the head as they walked down the long dirt road connecting the Monastery to one of the several small villages that surrounded it. Catherine snapped from the mental funk she’d been lost in, and Fredrique began running away as she chased after him. 

“Freddy, I swear I’m going to throttle you, you skinny red headed little shit!” She ran to chase after him, but found a heavy hand on her shoulder holding her back. “Goddess damnit. Joseph let me kill him!” Catherine shouted, swatting the hand away. 

“Come on, Catherine. You know he’s just trying to get your goat. Don’t give him the joy.” The older man advised, shaking his head. Catherine sighed, raising her hands up as if to say ‘I give up’. “What’s got you so lost in that head of yours, kid? There’s not a whole lot up there, so it’s gotta be something pretty big.” Joseph’s aged old face managed to stretch into a world-weary smile as Catherine rolled her eyes. 

“It’s nothing.” Catherine said as casually as she could. 

“You do realise that by saying it’s nothing, you’re making it obvious that there’s an ‘it’ to be talking about, right?” Joseph said, Catherine just grumbled in response. 

“Damnit, Joseph, I swear you’re as annoying as Frederique sometimes.” 

“Hey!” 

“Shut up, Freddy.” Joseph ordered, “Continue, Catherine. Something’s clearly got you by the ass. You’ve been daydreaming, or whatever it is you were doing, since we left town this morning. What, did you eat some bad gruel at the last inn?” He asked, nudging her with his elbow gently. Catherine couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“No, it’s not that.” Catherine ran a hand through her hair and shook her head side to side, as if trying to shake it clear. 

“Then what?” Joseph asked. 

“Hey! Ask her if it’s about that teacher she’s nailing!” Frederique prompted from behind them on the trail. Catherine turned around, ready to chase him down and show him a bit of respect, but again, Joseph’s hand sat on her shoulder. 

“Don’t kill him, Catherine. He’s a dumbass, but I think his heart is in the right place. Is he right? Is it about the Captain’s daughter?” Joseph asked as she turned back around. 

“Does every damned person know about what I do in my private time?” Catherine groaned. 

“Well, you aren’t exactly subtle. First you completely ditch out on us for dinner after the squires say you had training interrupted by her, then suddenly you’re spending every other day training with her class.” Joseph explained. 

“Not to mention…” Frederique said, somehow having snuck up on the both of them. “She’s not exactly hard to notice, and I saw her walking through the halls of the barracks, going towards your side of the building and not coming back out for several hours.That was kind of a dead giveaway.” Catherine could only groan more and shake her head. 

“None of us were trying to pry into your personal life. We just have eyes and aren’t stupid, or well at least I’m not.” Joseph said. 

“Hey!” 

“Shut up, Frederique.” Catherine ordered. 

“But seriously, Catherine, what’s up? Is it about her?” The fatherly tone in Joseph’s voice couldn’t be missed, even by a deaf man. 

“I don’t know, Joe. I just feel like shit. Like even though we didn’t drink last night, I feel like I'm hungover without the headache.” Joe and Freddy both looked at her, plainly confused. 

“How do you mean, kid?” 

“I just… got this knot in my stomach and whenever I think about her it gets tied up even worse. I’m worried she might have cursed me or something. She gave me a kiss on the cheek before I left, and I got all light headed and dizzy and it happens again every time I think about it. I’m worried I'm going insane.” Catherine rambled. 

“I think you’re just missing her, Catherine. It seems pretty simple.” Joe said, adjusting the hammer he had slung over his shoulder. 

“I just don’t see why. I mean I went weeks without seeing Shamir before she got all weird and drifted away, and it never bothered me.” Catherine pondered. 

“Well, maybe there’s something different between you and Jeralt’s kid than there was between you and Shamir.” Joseph suggested, wishing to the goddess above that this dumb lesbian would take the damn hint. 

“What do you mean?” Catherine asked, and all hope seemed to drain from Joseph’s tired old eyes.

“...You really are fuckin’ stupid, y’know that Catherine?” Fredrique asked, ducking under the swing that followed. Joseph grabbed Catherine's other arm and yanked her forward, back toward the direction they were going. 

“As much as I hate to agree, he’s kind of right. You’re not cursed, and you’re not hungover, and you’re not going insane. You just miss your girl. It’s pretty damn simple.” Joseph said with a shrug. Catherine went a bit red in the face, and shook her head. She seemed as if her entire posture changed, becoming stiff and unnatural. Her shoulders seemed pulled up rather tight, as if she were suspended from strings. She raised both her hands as if to say ‘hold on a minute’. Joseph could swear her voice seemed different as she began to speak, but he couldn’t place how. 

“She is not ‘my girl’. She’s an ally. That’s it, that’s absolutely it. You’re beyond out of line, Sir Joseph and I would hazard you not to forget yourself again. This conversation is done. Also, Sir Fredrique, if you insult me one more time I’ll have you court martialed for insubordination and disrespect of a commanding officer. Now get a move on, we’ve only got a short while until we’re scheduled to meet our contacts in the next town. You have your orders, now go.”

Joseph looked over to Frederique as their commander walked faster down the path, leaving them both behind. Confusion was evident in both of their faces. 

“Shit, she really is mad…” Frederique whispered. 

“Yup. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her refer to anyone as “Sir” anything when she didn’t have to.” Joseph commented, scratching at the scruff of his beard. 

“I mean can you blame her? Remember how long it took her to finally get everyone to stop calling her ‘sir’ and ‘mister’ at first? I’m just surprised that this time it ain’t even all my fault she’s pissed. Hahaha, score one for Frederique!” He said, pumping his bow into the air. 

“Shut the fuck up, babe. Not the time.” Joe said as he picked up his pace to catch back up to Catherine.

Fredrique sighed. He knew when Joey started using ‘babe’ shit was really bad. 

“You’re sure it came from Professor Jaritza’s room?” Edelgard asked as they sprinted down the path towards one of the larger faculty housing buildings. 

“Yes! We heard a scream when me and Linhardt were over here, I’m certain it came from Jaritza’s room.” Caspar called back as he led the way. 

“Who the hell is Jaritza?!” Byleth asked, her boots pounding on the heavily worn stone of the path beneath her.

“Tall blonde guy! Wears a ponytail, has a weird mask he wears for some reason, talks really dramatically and looks like a creep!” Leonie called back, trailing not too far behind Byleth. Most of the class had either heard Caspar’s yelling, or been gathered during their sprint towards the faculty hall. 

“Wait, what were you two doing over here anyway?” Byleth asked. “We were supposed to be using today for a break.” 

“Um, we… we got anxious! Wanted to keep looking!” Caspar hastily replied, rounding a corner. Even Byleth could see that was a lie. He gestured towards one of the doors. “That’s it! That’s where I heard the scream.” Byleth nodded and ran past him, charging towards the door shoulder-first and smashing through it like a pane of glass. Splintered wood scattered the floor and a small chunk of the top of the door swung slowly, dangling from the topmost hinge. 

Byleth heard a ‘crack’ and a grunt of pain, followed by two thuds, one was heavy and soft, the other was the distinct sound of wood hitting the ground. She turned to see Ferdinand laid out on the ground in front of the doorway, with half the class gawking at him as he rubbed his reddened forehead. The segment of door that had been hanging from the hinge was now on the ground several feet away. 

“Ferdinand, you utter buffoon! ” Hubert chastised, kneeling down to assess the boy.

“Is that Professor Manuela?!” Bernadetta asked, pointing as a shape in the shadows towards the edge of the room. Sure enough, there was the school’s medic, sprawled out on the floor with what appeared to be a stab wound draining blood. 

Dorothea ran over to her immediately, but she was pinned under a bookshelf. Byleth waved Petra over, and the two quickly hefted the shelf up. While Dorothea tried, she couldn’t seem to pull the woman out on her own. Bernadetta ran over, putting her bow over one shoulder and grabbed one of the professor’s hands. Together they managed to pull her out to safety. As soon as she was out, Byleth nodded to Petra and they let the shelf drop to the ground, exposing a massive hole in the wall that appeared to lead to a tunnel. 

“I’d be willing to wager that’s where our masked professor ran off to. Wouldn’t you agree, professor Eisner?” Hubert asked, having been walking towards the hole as he began speaking, he paused and looked to her as he finished his question. 

“I’m not drunk enough to take that bet. I think you’re right.” Byleth replied, clenching her hand and feeling her nails dig into the rough flesh of her palm. Damn. She’d not taken time to grab her gauntlets. She’d have to make due. “Everyone, get ready to move out. Someone needs to stay here with Ferdinand and Manuela, but I want the rest of you with me.” 

“Professor, I can still fight.” Ferdinand said, propping himself up on his lance. 

“Like hell you can! You can barely stand!” Hubert scolded, gesturing at the young lord's posture. 

“Hubert, I’ll be fine.” Ferdinand said, just barely managing to stand without his steel crutch. 

“If he can stand, he can fight. If you’re so concerned, Hubert, you can watch his back. But we still need someone to stay back with Manuela.” Byleth said. 

“I can do it professor.” Edelgard said from beside the bleeding woman. 

“Good. If Jeritza comes back through the tunnel, run and get help.” 

“Understood.” The empress said with a nod. 

“Move!” Byleth ordered, and the class followed her down the tunnel. 

A few minutes passed, and Edelgard heard several sets of heavy steel footsteps coming around a corner. She turned to see Captain Jeralt, along with several other knights, running towards her. The Professor’s father knelt down beside her, looking at the woman laid out beneath her. 

“What happened?” The Captain asked, gesturing for a person in robes to come forward. 

“She appears to have been stabbed, we think it was Jeritza.” Edelgard explained as the robed knight held his hands out and begam healing Manuela’s wound. 

“Where is Byleth?” Jeralt asked. Edelgard gestured toward the hole in the wall as she stood. 

“She went down there, but she doesn’t have her gauntlets. I need to run to her room and grab them for her. Her orders.” 

“Fine, go.” Edelgard found his tone as he gave the command rather familiar. She ran away, rounding the corner and running towards the classroom. 

Once inside, she pulled several large, dusty tomes from the wall, throwing them onto the nearest desk as she pulled a heavy satchel from the shelf where the books had just been. As she began unpacking her bag, she realized the bottle of Bergamot oil she’d had in her pocket had fallen out, and the cork had come dislodged. Thankfully, it only seemed to spill a bit, maybe a tenth of what was in the bottle to begin with. She quickly wiped away the spilled remains with her sleeve. She couldn’t afford to leave any trace of herself. 

Bernadetta let a pair of arrows loose from her bow and saw two of the strange-garbed monks she was aiming at keel over, dead. When they had finally made it out of the long narrow tunnel that they’d charged into, the Black Eagles had found themselves in what appeared to be a long-abandoned section of the Catacombs. 

There were two long trailing hallways on either side of the area they had been spat out into, and both seemed to be swarmed with knights and mages in strange armor stripped of any and all emblems or embellishment. 

“Bernadetta! Duck!” Petra screamed, and the girl did as she was told, dropping to the ground and the Brigian princess crashed, upside down and back first, into one of the stone walls before slumping to the ground. While Petra moved to stand up, Bernadetta wheeled around to see a large brawler ambling towards them with a cocky grin. The archer pulled another arrow from her quiver and set it loose, but the brawler seemed to dodge out of the way of the sharp projectile with ease. 

“Not that easy, kitten.” The man growled as he lunged for her. She dodged out of his reach, but couldn’t make enough space to give her the time to grab another arrow. She dodged another lunge, but the brawler still managed to land a punch into her gut. 

She tried not to cave as her lungs emptied of air. She even managed to dodge another attempt by the brawler to grab her, but one more try, and he finally caught up.

He grabbed Bernadetta by the lapels, lifting her into the air and slamming her down onto the ground, smashing her head into the hard stone beneath her. She screamed in pain and felt a warm trickle down the back of her neck, before a cold metal mass smashed into her cheek. 

She expected another, with what little of her mental faculties she had left, and knew that if that strike didn’t kill her, the one that was sure to follow certainly would. Is this really how she was meant to die? How the goddess had planned her life? Over a decade of her father’s sick “training”, and once she finally escaped, finally found people she genuinely cared about and who she trusted to care about her, it would be cut so short? 

What she had assumed may be her final thoughts were interrupted, and her ringing ears were filled with the sound of an almost feral screaming, followed by a heavy thud and then a wet sloshing sound. 

Byleth, Hubert, Ferdinand, Ashe and Leonie followed the other hallway. It was a long, spiraling path full of strange floor panels that seemed to teleport them around, turning what should have been a simple hallway into a strange mess of a puzzle. Byleth hated puzzles.

She thankfully had a good outlet for this familiar rage as she ran up to an archer who was occupying one hallway. The poor man dropped his bow, reaching for a sword at his belt, but Byleth didn’t give him the time to reach it. She grabbed his wrist, jerking his arm up and his hand towards her, leaving his arm jutting straight out at her. From there all it took was a simple palm strike to the unlucky man's elbow, and a loud cracking sound filled the hallway. Byleth didn’t let him suffer too long however, as she reached down and pulled out the sword he had been reaching for, burying it into his head. 

Dorothea heard a familiar rage-filled scream echo through the stone halls around her, and after sending a blast of bright white energy into the chest of a charging knight, turned to see Petra, her back covered in bloody scrapes, tackling a man in a light chestplate and gauntlets to the ground with her shortsword drawn.

She held the man’s head down by his hair as she thrashed her other arm away, dragging the edge of the blade against his throat in a long, messy motion. The blood practically exploded from his throat as she slit him open like a boar. Dorothea saw her classmate and partner standing shakily and drop her sword before turning to run in her direction. 

Why was she crying?

“Bernadetta!” Petra screamed, collapsing next to a mass on the ground. It was a corpse surrounded by a thin, but large pool of fresh blood. By the looks of the corpse's hair….no, no not a corpse, Berny, it was Berny’s hair. Goddess, no… 

She ran forward, dropping the dagger she had been clutching and falling down beside the two of them. She lit her hands with the white glow of healing magic. She could do this. She could save her. 

Right?

Terror started to set in as she began working to mend the damage to Bernadetta’s skull. There were so many little shards, so many fragments. It wasn’t like the professor, all long slivers whose jagged edges made them easy to match to their original place. No, this was terrifyingly intricate, and she could already feel Berny’s life draining out, soaking the ground and seeping into the clothing around Dorothea’s knees. 

She couldn’t do it. She was going to fail and she knew it. One of two women she cared most for, and she was going to be the one to doom her to an early grave. Dorothea couldn’t hold back her tears, and Petra was not faring much better. 

Another set of footsteps sounded through the hall, and Dorothea looked up to see a knight, sword at the ready, charging them. Petra was in the process of standing, but even she wouldn’t be able to get up and to him before he could get a swing in. 

Caspar however was already in the process of bullrushing that knight, and the sound of his shoulder smashing into his opponent’s armor made one think of a tin can being smashed with a warhammer. He would be damned if he was gonna let this sorry son of a bitch hurt his classmates, that was for sure. He slammed the knight into a nearby pillar, and when the poor armored bastard fell to the ground, Caspar had already pulled the axe off of his back. The heavy blade swung down right as the soldier looked up, and a second later his head hit the ground with a wet ‘thunk’. 

“Petra, move please.” Linhardt said calmly, resting his hand gently on the woman's shoulder from behind her. She nodded and stood, moving away as Linhardt took her place, his own hands glowing as he looked up at Dorothea, trying his best to put on a reassuring smile. “Thought you could use a little help.” He said. 

“Thanks Lindy.” Dorothea said, wiping at her cheek. 

Caspar walked over to Petra, whose mind was currently filled with rage at both the man who had done this and herself for having been so weak as to let it happen. The tears were readily apparent in the dirt and blood that covered her face. Caspar held out her blood-spattered sword, nudging her shoulder. Petra turned and saw him facing the handle out towards her. 

“Come on. We can’t help them with that.” He gestured towards the two healers hard at work. “But we can keep them safe while they do what they do best.” Caspar said. Petra nodded, seeming to snap from a trance. She took her blade back, readying herself to slaughter anyone who’d dare threaten the women she cared for. 

“Let us do just that, then.” Petra said. Not a second later another few sets of footsteps could be heard coming their way. Petra knew this was going to be very, very fun. 

The soldiers that had occupied the halls which Byleth and her group now stood in were all long dead. The present members of the Black Eagles were all stood in the middle of a large room, where about six different teleportation panels were sat, watching in awe and slight horror as their professor walked between each one, only to appear at another in the same room. 

It must have been ten minutes, at least, of Byleth stamping around by that point, Ashe thought to herself as she watched the absolute chaos that was her professor scrambling from one panel to another just to appear at a seperate one after a flash of light. In all honesty, it was almost funny. But Ashe just wasn’t sure if there was something she should do to try and help.

“Should we say something?” Ashe whispered, leaning closer to Leonie. 

“I want to, but I’ve never seen the professor this angry...I’ve never seen the professor angry at all! I’m afraid if I say something I'm gonna get my ass kicked.” Leonie whispered back. 

“I’m just curious to see how long she can keep this up.” Ferdinand commented, leaning in behind the two of them. 

“I can not believe these words are leaving my mouth.” Hubert said, as if he were about to declare the apocalypse itself. “But I’m actually impressed. The sheer amount of bullheaded determination this must take.” all three of his classmates looked at him as if he had just grown a third arm, and only looked away when Professor Eisner’s voice could be heard as she stormed out of another portal. 

“To hell with it!” She set the poor dead man on the ground for a minute, and walked towards the nearest crevice which held a teleportation pad. When she stepped on it however, she did not pull the small lever that triggered the movement, instead, she began inspecting the wall, knocking on it at certain spots with her ear pressed nearby. She went to every single crevice, and did the exact same. After she was done, she went back to the second one she had checked, and knocked again. “We’re going through.” Byleth said, walking not towards one of the teleporters, but instead back towards the hall that they had come from. 

“Through? What in the goddess’s name do you mean, ‘through’?” Hubert asked, only to be ignored. 

A moment later, he had his answer. Professor Eisner walked back into the room carrying a heavily armored knight’s corpse, the metal plating on his body made a heavy clanking sound with each step she took. 

“There’s another room on the other side of that wall. And the second alcove’s wall is the thinnest.” Byleth said. 

“Professor Eisner, what are you doing?” Hubert asked, incredulous. She turned her head to look at him, and gesture towards the crevice she had just referenced with her head before repeating that same damned word. 

“Through.” And with that, she dropped her hips down, and sprinted faster than any woman lugging that large of a corpse had any right to. All four students realised, to varying degrees of amazement and horror, that she intended to use the dead man as a sort of battering ram. 

When the back of the corpse hit the stone wall, the entire room filled with a loud cracking sound as the lamps on the walls shook. Byleth backed away, revealing a heavily-cracked stone wall, and began her charge again. Another much louder crack resonated through the room, and Byleth readied for her third charge. 

Linhardt, Caspar, Petra,Dorothea, and a mostly-healed Bernadetta finished passing through a single teleportation panel, finding themselves in a large room with almost 8 mages, all looking at them at once. Bernadetta was barely standing, most of her weight supported by Dorothea. Caspar held his axe at the ready, but he knew in all likelihood they weren’t going to make it out of this one. With every spellcaster focused on them, he and Petra at the very least were good as dead. 

That would have been true, had every spellcaster’s attention actually remained focused on them. But that rather quickly became not the case when a large woman carrying an extremely flattened corpse smashed through the wall on the opposite side of the room, tumbling and falling to the ground. Caspar took the opportunity and attacked the nearest mage. Most everyone else took the hint and began their own onslaught. Once the shock of seeing their professor literally smash her way through a stone wall faded, Leonie, Ashe, Hubert and Ferdinand followed her through the newly made doorway, and joined in the murderous festivities. That room was cleared in a matter of minutes, the next one in seconds, the third equally as fast. 

When Byleth threw open the door to the final room, there stood the death knight, atop his horse, scythe in hand with two mages on either side. The three of them all stood over two unconscious bodies, one of which was clearly Flayn. 

“ _So you have finally arrived. _” The Knight commented, his voice a metallic ring more than any kind of actual human speech.“ _Then may I slaughter you all together, so you may have the convenience of dying side by side! _”____

____“You’re as dumb as you are ugly if you think you can beat all of us!” Caspar taunted, raising his axe._ _ _ _

____“We will strike you down from your steed and into the bowels of hell where you belong!” Ferdinand echoed, his sword at the ready._ _ _ _

____“I will burn you alive inside that suit you monster!” Dorothea chimed in._ _ _ _

_____“Stop.” _An unfamiliar metallic voice rang out, and a short ‘man’ in a large suit of armor, whose face was covered with an intricately patterned porcelain mask appeared between the knight and the professor. The ‘man’ in the armor, who only Hubert and the Death Knight knew to be Edelgard, turned and looked at the Death Knight as he spoke, the mask making her voice veiled and difficult to place to those she knew would recognize it.__ _ _ _ _

_______“You’re having a bit too much fun for my taste, Take your leave. Your work here is done.” _The ‘man’ ordered. Edelgard saw her Death Knight prepare to protest, and raised a hand to silence him. _“You’ll have more fun soon enough, now leave.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________“Understood.” _The death knight responded, before disappearing in a puff of smoke and a flash of bright light. Edelgard turned to her Professor, and raised her hands dramatically as she spoke her next few words.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________“Make no mistake, we will cross paths again. I am the Flame Emperor, and I am the one who shall reforge the world!” _And not a second later, the Flame Emperor too disappeared in a puff of smoke and a flash of light.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Hubert was just thankful no one had heard either of the times he muttered the teleportation spell._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“The Flame Emperor? That doesn’t sound like the type of person who intends on making life easy for us.” Ashe commented._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well whoever he is, he’s gone. We should get these two out of here and make sure they’re ok. Ashe, you’re a strong guy, come help me.” Leonie moved with her now frowning companion as they grabbed Flayn, hoisting her up by her arms and dragging her out of the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Who is that other girl?” Dorothea asked, pointing to the second unconscious body, a red-haired girl wearing a school uniform._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Whoever she is, best to take her back out with us, and quickly. The enemy has withdrawn, but there’s no telling if they will return. Ferdinand, your assistance please.” Hubert said, and the two quickly moved the second girl out as well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Byleth stepped forward, examining the slightly charred ground where the Flame Emperor had stood. She sniffed at the air. Something smelled familiar about the room, but she couldn’t place where._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Once the class was back in Jaritza’s room, they handed the two young women off to the several knights and robed mages. As the mages began helping to heal the two of them, Manuela stood from a spot leaned against one of the nearby walls and walked over to Byleth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Seems I have you to thank for saving me, Professor Eisner.” She said, her voice holding none of her usual flirtation. She thought better than to risk her teasing putting a roadblock in the way of the group that had become so very entertaining to observe over the past few weeks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“The students deserve it more than I do. Caspar is the one who heard you, and Dorothea, Petra, and Bernadetta helped me get you out from under the bookshelf. What were you even doing here?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh, I had found Jaritza’s damned mask on one of the building rooftops near Flynn's quarters, and I came over here to ask him what exactly he’d been doing up there.” Manuela explained, holding up the mask in question._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Manuela, what exactly were you doing up there?” Byleth querked a brow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well, nothing of any ill-intent. It was a hunch I had, that perhaps someone may have been there watching the poor thing and accidentally left a clue. I was correct.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well, then I’m glad you followed your gut. But do try not to get stabbed in it next time.” Byleth commented._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh, you shut your mouth about my ‘gut’ right this instant, Professor Eisner.” Manuela retorted. Just then, a familiar voice greeted Byleth’s ears._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Professor!” Edelgard called, running through the door, her hair an absolute mess and her uniform a bit disheveled. She must have ran quite fast. “I couldn’t find your Gauntlets anywhere, I ended up having to run to the knight’s Arena for a spare set. Am I too late?” The heiress asked, disappointed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Yes, but your help is still appreciated nonetheless.” Byleth said, taking the armored gloves from her student with a small bow of the head in thanks. She caught a whiff of a familiar scent, stronger this time, and it was coming from Edelgard. “Bergamot.” Byleth commented, recognizing it finally._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Wh..What?” Edelgard asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Bergamot. You smell like that bergamot oil that I gave you for your birthday.” Byleth commented, completely unaware of the questioning looks that earned her from, to begin the list, her father, her fellow professor, several of the students, and Dorothea most of all. Edelgard’s face went bright red and she began sweating a bit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Y..yes, I apologize, the bottle fell out of my pocket when...when I was running to the Arena, some of it must have spilled on me. But why is that important, Professor?” Edelgard asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh, I caught the scent of it down in the place we found those two, right after some strange man in a mask disappeared in a massive flash of light. I just couldn’t place it.” Byleth remarked nonchalantly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Oh, you did?” Edelgard asked, fear curling up in the pit of her stomach. Was her Professor about to catch her red handed in front of almost a dozen Knights of Seiros? She prayed Hubert had another teleportation spell prepared for them and quickly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Yes. I think I must’ve simply spilled a bit of tea on myself earlier, or something of that nature. It just bothered me that I couldn’t place it.” Byleth said, waving it off as she began moving towards the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Hubert was simply agog at the Professor. Here he was, prepared to eject both himself and Lady Edelgard immediately were she to out them, and the incomprehensible denseness of the woman somehow managed to save them the trouble. He was unsure if he should feel thankful, or frankly, offended._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________A short while later, Jeralt, Byleth and Edelgard appeared in the entryway to the Audience Chamber before Rhea with a very very tired looking Seteth stood beside her. They took their spots at the end of the long red carpet, and Seteth bowed his head slowly toward Byleth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Thank you Jeralt, Professor Eisner. Your help in finding Flayn has been greatly appreciated. You have my gratitude.” The lord said, and Byleth could swear that, by the way he said ‘professor’, it seemed as if the words physically pained him to say._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I am glad I could help, but my students are the ones who deserve the praise. They defeated the overwhelming majority of the Death Knight’s soldiers.” Byleth said plainly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“And my men played no part in his defeat. We arrived shortly before the class was already done.” Jeralt interjected._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Whatever damage your students were able to do to the ranks that follow this Death Knight and the so-called Flame Emperor he serves, we can’t allow ourselves to grow complacent. We do not know what their next move could be.” Seteth stated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Why would they even want Flayn to begin with? Any one of the other students from a wealthier house could have been ransomed for more, so the motive likely wasn’t money.” Byleth wondered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I think we have some indication as to why she was taken, but I feel it is best that that knowledge be kept among only those who need to know it.” Seteth said, looking towards Byleth, as if clearly pointing out she was the party he was not in favor of informing. She felt anger burning in the pit of her stomach, but tried to calm herself. Anger felt different than it had in the past. Where it had once been at worst a dull irritation, this felt like a fire inside her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“So we are simply supposed to prepare for a potential future attack with absolutely no information regarding why they struck in the first place? In what world does that make any form of sense?” Edelgard asked, incredulous at the disrespect. Seteth’s upper lip twitched._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I would highly advise that you remember your place in this academy, young lady. You are a student, and you will listen, not speak, when it would best benefit your learning.” Seteth scolded. The fire grew hotter within her, and Byleth was not going to let that slide._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I will ‘highly advise’ you to be respectful of my students, especially when I am in the room, Lord Seteth. But if you do not intend to tell us why she was taken to begin with, how are we supposed to defend her going forward?” Byleth asked the last piece and heard the lord scoff. Jeralt shot her a look as if to say ‘be careful’._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“You speaking of respect is rather precious, Miss Eisner. And your services protecting Flayn will no longer be needed. I thank you for her return, but I will be taking her to a safe location, away from the academy to protect her from this point on.” Seteth said, almost proud that he was ,from the sounds of it dragging, his own sister to the middle of nowhere._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“But brother…” Flayn said, stepping out of the office off to the side of the Audience chamber. “I don’t want to leave this school. Here we have knights and mages and professors to protect us, out there we would be alone.” The poor girl looked terrified, and Byleth was unsure as she felt the rage inside her grow, now forced to share space with the urge to give the child a hug. What in the hell was going on with her? Was she going mad?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“We are not having this discussion again, Flayn. Go back to your cot and rest. I will not allow you to be targeted by the likes of these vile intruders again.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“But…” Flayn began, only to be cut off again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Flayn, you have had a long, stressful ordeal, and are not fit to see reason right now. Please trust in me to know what is best for you.” Seteth made the demand clear. Flayn’s eyes visibly teared up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“But, I could stay here at the academy! I could even join the Professor’s class. She saved me this time, she could keep me safer then we would be all alone outside the Monastery.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“No. Absolutely not. I will certainly not entrust your safety for any longer than absolutely necessary to this troglodyte.” Seteth said flatly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Byleth didn’t know what that word meant, but she knew it pissed her off to hear him call her it. She grit her teeth, trying to bite back the anger that now seemed to be burning it’s way through her veins._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Seteth, please try to be reasonable.” Rhea said, and the lord sighed and shook his head. Jeralt opened his mouth to speak but Byleth beat him to it, stamping down on a long-denied urge as she tried to do the right thing and be diplomatic._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“She does have a point. Having an entire class to defend her, especially one as large as my own, would be far safer for her then being alone with only you. You can’t keep watch forever, you will have to sleep sometime.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Yes! Exactly! Thank you, Professor Eisner!” Flayn said, and the genuine joy of the smile that crossed the strange girl’s lips made Byleth feel something warm in her chest. Why did care and rage seem so very similar in everything but their intensity? Why were they now both so overwhelming to her? “Would you be willing to take me on as a student so late in the…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“No! I will not repeat myself again, Flayn. You are not staying on these grounds, and you are not joining this damned woman’s class.” Byleth saw the now openly fuming Seteth turn to her and poke her in the chest, as if he were trying to crack her sternum with his fingertip. Each jab made that burning harder and harder to push down. “I have kept a very close eye on you, Miss Eisner, and I have seen nothing but negligent, disrespectful, woefully insubordinate conduct. I am still horrified that you are allowed to teach at this academy, let alone have the gaul to try and recruit my own blood, my only surviving blood, into your twisted failure of a classroom.” And like that, what calming Flayn had managed to do was turned right back into fury._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“But Brother!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Flayn! To your cot, now.” The green haired man ordered firmly. The poor girl’s eyes welled with tears as she ran back into the office. Byleth nudged Edelgard’s shoulder, and gestured after the girl, making her order clear. ‘Check on her and make sure she’s ok.’ Edelgard moved to do just that, but as she crossed between Byleth and Seteth, the lord reached out, stopping her by her shoulder. “You will leave when you are dismissed by the Archbishop, and only then young lady.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Seteth, calm yourself.” Rhea said more sternly, but it did little. Byleth felt a joint in her hand pop as it clenched into a fist, and with it broke any attempt she had made at holding back her rage. This man could insult her however much he pleased, but he was not going to touch her student. He was done. This was done._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Unhand my student immediately, you moss-haired son of a bitch!” Byleth ordered through bared teeth, grabbing Seteth by his collar and hefting him into the air by his jacket as if he were light as a stack of papers. This did a well enough job of releasing his grip on Edelgard, who looked over to Jeralt in utter confusion._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Fuck me.” Jeralt whispered under his breath, waving Edelgard on to continue towards the door. She nodded and continued going to Flayn as Jeralt stepped forward and grabbed his daughter’s shoulder. “Byleth! Put the man down.” She turned to reply, but a knee met with the side of her face before she could._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Bitch!” Byleth screamed,letting go of Seteth as she shuffled back, her nose pouring blood down her face. She spit some of the blood now flowing into her mouth out onto the polished marble floor at Seteth’s feet. She saw him standing up, looking straight at her with his intentions practically written on his face. He wanted a round two. Byleth began pulling off her gauntlets, and had just about gotten the first one off when he made his move._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He began moving, right past Jeralt who tried to stand between them to end the fight, and past Rhea’s attempts to reach out and grab him. He had just about gotten his arm back far enough he could actually launch the fire ball forming in his hand when Byleth felt the weight of the gauntlet leave her and swung her now-bare fist up into the underside of the green haired man’s jaw. She felt the bone crunch and shift under her knuckles as his head snapped back, sending him to the ground._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Professor!” Rhea’s voice had taken on the authoritative tone appropriate for an Archbishop, but Byleth was beyond even pretending that mattered to her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________All the rage, that fire that had burned like dragon’s flame inside her as she heard this self-righteous bastard mocking her and demeaning her students now felt like a raging storm in her veins, and it felt glorious to release that onto Seteth’s jaw._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She spit another glob of blood onto the marble off to her side, and Seteth began moving to get up. That, frankly, astounded Byleth and Jeralt as well, if he were honest. The man was already back to his feet by the time Byleth reached him. She saw a spell forming in his left hand, and from the swirling energy it looked like a nasty one._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Byleth grabbed his lapel, and she saw a swollen bruise already forming along his jaw where the first strike had hit.. With her open hand, she grabbed the other side of his jacket and slammed the hardest part of her forehead into Seteth’s skull. She was proud of the cracking she felt as the attack connected, and Seteth was sent back to the ground now at Rhea’s feet. Yet again he stood up, as if he was completely unaffected, and Byleth saw something monstrous burning in his eyes as Rhea finally reached him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Seteth.” Rhea said, grabbing his wrist and pulling it back. “Calm yourself.” Seteth looked as if he were about to protest, but appeared to have thought better of it. All of a sudden the tension in his shoulders, all the fight in him, just seemed to vanish.“Grabbing a student is absolutely inappropriate, and while I do not condone the Professor’s actions you both were less mature than even the youngest student here while you are meant to be their guides and role models! If you look at things without your own prejudices, Seteth, I’m sure you’ll see the professor is right. You can’t simply run off, and your temper had best find a way to get itself under control. The both of you!” Seteth sighed and shook his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I...fine. I can see that staying here is the best thing for Flayn, but absolutely not in that damned woman’s class.” Seteth proclaimed. Byleth was frankly astounded. Where had all that certainty gone?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“That is fine, there are openings in both other houses.” Byleth said as she wiped at the bloody mess that had become the lower half of her face. She was quite sure of that, since she was the one who had made those vacancies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Good. Then she can go with the Blue Lions. Manuela and Dimitri will be a much better influence.” Seteth wiped away at the wrinkles on his jacket, half of his face and most of his forehead already seeming to swell and bruise. Byleth felt the muscles in her jaw clench as she bit down a rather unprofessional response, though she doubted it mattered much at this point. The fire seemed to be calming down, and she was starting to realize how badly she had handled that. Seteth bowed and bid adieu to the Archbishop, before walking away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Professor Eisner, I would expect better from you.” Rhea said, shaking her head solemnly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“That seems like a mistake on your part.” Byleth responded. Even as part of her realized her less-than-ideal response, there was still a bitterness in her she couldn’t seem to stamp down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Byleth.” Jeralt reprimanded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“He not only openly mocked me, and has for months, but he laid a hand on one of the students under my charge without hesitation. He grabbed my student, so I grabbed him. He threw the first strike, and went to throw a second, so I struck him down. I did not start this!” Byleth shot back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Regardless, as an instructor you must learn when to deescalate situations, not simply react to them. I will not have you removed from your position as an instructor, as you are correct it was Seteth who threw the first blow, but be cautious Professor. Another outburst like that and I will have you removed from these grounds.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Understood, Archbishop. Was there any further business?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Yes, in fact. Do you remember the girl with the red hair you rescued alongside Flayn?” Rhea asked. Byleth nodded. “Her name is Monica. She was a student with last year’s class, and she had gone missing just weeks before her graduation. We had thought she’d run off with a knight who disappeared around that time, but it appears not. Well, she has asked to rejoin her old class, the Black Eagle house, once she is done recovering. Since you seemed so welcoming of the idea of Flayn joining your class, I do hope there is no protest to Monica?” Rhea asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“None, ma’am.” Byleth said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“That is grand, indeed. I will send her to your class the moment she is given a clean bill of health by Manuela. You are dismissed, professor. I hope you will take the next few weeks and prepare yourself for the battle of the Eagle and Lion.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Will do, ma’am.” Byleth said, bowing. Rhea dismissed them, and Jeralt began to head for the exit, but as he saw his daughter going another direction, he decided best to follow her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Byleth walked to the office and saw a small cot tucked into the corner of the room with Flayn and Edelgard both sat on the edge. The professor approached, and knelt down in front of the green haired girl, looking up at her as she bowed her head down a bit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’m sorry that everything happened how it did, and that it seems the...tension between your brother and I caught you in the middle of it all. Is he like that often?” Byleth asked, taking Edelgard a bit by surprise with the level of what could almost be called tact that she seemed to be using._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“No...he just has been so concerned lately with the Western Church, and so aggravated with...well…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Me.” Byleth offered, and Flayn nodded a bit, almost laughing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“He’s just concerned, and the fact he’s worried enough to be this aggravated is scarier to me than his actions themselves.” Flayn’s response was barely above a weak whisper._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Jeralt watched as Byleth reached up and rested her hand, the one with the least blood on it, on Flayn’s own hand. That small smile that had seemed to become so common on his daughter’s face made another appearance as she leaned a bit closer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“You’re going to be ok. By the sound of it, you aren’t being sent away, they’re putting you in the Blue Lions house. Manuela is a good instructor, and I’m sure you will be well protected. But, if you ever feel like you need somewhere to go, or if things go wrong and you don’t feel safe, you’re always welcome with the Eagles.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Thank you, Professor.” Flayn said, rubbing at her cheek with the palm of her hand. The three bid each other goodbye and Edelgard followed Byleth out of the office. Jeralt joined them as they left for the hall._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Once out,he heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Byleth.” He said, turning to face her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’m not gonna say I was wrong. I only finished what he started.” Byleth said, preemptively. This seemed to earn her a chuckle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I was going to say good job knocking the prat on his ass.” Jeralt said in a hushed whisper. “Come on, join me in my office. Miss Hresvelg, I do hope you can wait just a moment for me and my daughter to discuss something.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Of course, Captain Eisner.” Edelgard said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Please, just call me Jeralt.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“What is the point of having titles in the knights if no one goes by them?” Byleth asked as she followed Jeralt to his office._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Beats the hell out of me.” He said, closing the door behind them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“What’s this about?” Byleth asked, looking at her father, who suddenly seemed much older, if not in appearance than simply in the way he carried himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Well, I just… I wanted to ask you for something. A favor.” Jeralt said, sitting on the edge of his desk._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Of course. What?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Just be careful, kid. Your next assignment is The battle of the Eagle and Lion, and that’s in Imperial territory. Things are calmer than they have been since the unrest in the west, but it’s not as peaceful as many would have it seem.This world is getting more and more dangerous, Byleth. Even on the grounds here at Garreg Mach. There've been reports of soldiers turning up dead while investigating mysterious groups. I don’t want you getting caught up in any of that. If, Goddess forbid, I ever were to turn up in a similar state...promise me you’ll search this room. Every nook and cranny. Every inch.Top to bottom.” Jeralt’s voice grew more somber than Byleth could ever remember it being._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Dad, don’t say things like that. It’s not going to come to that. You’re tougher on your worst days than me on my best.” Byleth said, but Jeralt could tell she was more focused on convincing herself than she was him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Damnit Byleth, just promise.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Ok. I Promise.” Jeralt reached out, grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her into another hug. They stood there for a long moment, before he pulled back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“So, what was that I heard earlier about Bergamot Oil?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! So I'm curious to see how folks like the hella-long update, and to see y'alls reactions and feedback cus I had a LOT of shit happen/get hinted at/get dropped right here. So please: comment and let me know your thoughts! I love interacting with yall in the comments. It no joke makes my day. 
> 
> Also, I hope yall enjoy the happy stuff this chapter! Cus boy howdie do I got some shit in store for you these next few chapters. 
> 
> Also! Follow me on twitter: https://twitter.com/DressTheSage  
> And Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage


	14. Chapter 14: What Did I Ever Come Here For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothea, Petra, and Bernadetta spend a quiet evening celebrating eachother and helping Petra feel just a bit less homesick, only to have everything devolve into tears. 
> 
> What is going on with the Professor? Why has noone seen Catherine in weeks? Why is she acting so strange? Why did Dorothea slap the shit out of her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I ran into the writing equivalent of a brick wall going 90mph while proofreading and editing this week’s chapter, and it led to me making some retcons that I gotta clue yall in on. I don’t want a wall of text here at the start so: I am changing the ages as I set them slightly, on top of the "every student is one year older than canon" thing I already had in place so that Petra is the same age as Edelgard (19) and that Ashe is the same age as Bernadetta (18). 
> 
> I had assumed (and for some reason never bothered to verify) that Petra was somewhere around Dorothea’s age when I started writing this story, which feels like forever ago, and had it brought to my attention after I wrote this chapter that I was in fact wrong. For reasons I’ll explain in the end note, I knew I had to address this somehow, so this is how. If you really don’t care and are just here for gay shit, enjoy. 
> 
> As always, shout out to TheUnqualified1 for being a fucking rad homie and letting me bombard them with requests to proofread at 9 oclock at night. Also, Shout out to Model Omega for helping me finalize my edits! Check out their shit! https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1/pseuds/The_Unqualified1  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModelOmega/pseuds/ModelOmega

“Come on, Bernadetta!” Dorothea hollered at the heavy wooden door, knocking with a quite surprising amount of force. 

“Just give me a minute!” Bernadetta whined from the other side of the thick oak slab. From the sounds of it she might as well have been leaning right against the damned thing. “I’m so tired.” 

That was certainly understandable. The past three weeks since they’d managed to rescue Flayn and Monica from the Death Knight had been rather grueling. The Black Eagle’s already infamous training regimen only got more and more intense, to the point that the exercises they had thought so horrendous mere months ago were barely their warm up now. 

“I know, Bernadetta, but we have been planning this for months now! Please be coming out?” Petra asked, and the two heard a sigh from the other side. 

This meal plan had been in place for quite some time. They’d originally intended it to celebrate Petra’s birthday last month, however all of the chaos around Flayn had caused them to reschedule. 

“I said just give me a minute.” Bernadetta assured.

Dorothea put the basket she had been carrying down and took her hat off, wiping some sweat from her brow before replacing it on her head. She was thankful they seemed to be actually able to continue with their quiet Sunday. Given their time at this school, that seemed to be a small, rare, mercy. 

Not even poor Monica, who had been held captive for goddess knows how long, was spared from the torturous exercise routine. Yes, the Professor gave her modified exercises, but it only accounted for so much. The first day after Monica joined, it must have been about two weeks ago, she had tried to make an excuse of not wanting to be a bother to get out of joining in on training. Byleth had flat-out ordered her to run laps with the rest of the class or, oh how had she put it? ‘I will drag you back to the Archbishop myself and have you transferred to another class’. 

That time, it was clearly meant to be a sort of goodnatured hazing, perhaps some motivation. Professor Eisner had been rather neutral to the girl at first, and had made attempts to even be kind to her, but she had seemed to sour rather quickly to Monica. No one was quite sure why, but some people, Manuela especially, had their theories. 

She hadn’t seen Byleth or Edie at their usual spot that Sunday prior, and the cook in the dining hall on Sundays said he hadn’t seen the professor that morning. Manuela also said that she saw Edie by one of the dining room tables with Monica and Hubert close in tow. Manuela was certain that was a sign of jealousy at play, but Dorothea was unconvinced. Sure, the professor was a bit more emotional the past few months, but jealousy? 

Dorothea had noted, however, that the pavilion Edie and the professor usually occupied was empty when she and Petra had passed it earlier that afternoon, so perhaps Manuela was on to something. Nothing that involved those two, nor the professor’s other light-haired ‘friend’, Catherine, seemed to make much sense so really anything was possible. 

Right when Dorothea started thinking about Catherine, the door finally opened and Bernadetta stepped out of her room. She had put a small pin in her hair to keep it out of her eyes, and the purple flower on it matched her hair beautifully. 

“Sorry...I had to get changed.” Bernadetta said as she toyed a bit with the flowy fabric of her skirt. Her usual uniform attire was gone, in favor of a lovely purple sweater along with a pair of thick fleece tights and a rather long black skirt. Perfect for the cold breeze that showed the slow transition from fall to winter was well underway. 

“You are lovely, Bernadetta.” Petra said, smiling as she swung her own small basket up off of the ground. She was wearing her usual attire, a uniform dress, along with a pair of chain link pants made up of some of the smallest chain Dorothea had ever seen, to the point it practically looked like a type of mesh. Those had been added under the insistence of Professor Eisner, as she had said outright the dress alone was unacceptable and impractical for combat. Over top of it all she wore a thick hide jacket that appeared to be lined with animal pelt. 

“Truly stunning, Bern.” Dorothea said, leaning in and wrapping the girl in a hug, giggling at the way she could feel heat against her face from Bernadetta’s blushing. Dorothea’s uniform was replaced with a fur drape over her shoulders over a light red blouse and skirt that ended just above her calf. “Do you have the blanket?” 

“Yeah!” Bernadetta said, hoisting up a backpack from the ground and opening it to reveal a frankly obscenely large wool blanket. 

“Wonderful! Then let us be going!” Petra said, and the trio began walking down the path towards the nearest exit of the monastery grounds. 

Dorothea’s mind wandered again as Petra and Bern rambled back and forth about something relating to archery. She adored them both, truly she did, but she really could only hear so many debates about whether or not horsehair bow strings or cotton were better for distance shooting. She found her thoughts floating back to the Professor, and how strange her behavior had been the past few weeks.

She had seen the woman training harder than ever before, already being well into her workout by the time the class arrived at the field on physical training days, and staying well after they left.Dorothea had arrived early to physical training a few days prior, and she remembered seeing the professor doing some warm ups, conveniently shirtless. What made Dorothea the most curious was the distinct lack of any sort of bruising or bite marks on her. Herself, Leonie and Lindhart had been noticing the assorted ‘lovemarks’ on their instructor all the time before their last mission, to the point that spotting them had practically become a game amongst them. 

Catherine’s team had been back from their search for nearly three weeks. Could she have been wrong about who Professor Eisner was seeing? Could it have been Edelgard? That certainly would give Manuela’s theory more weight, but there had been such overwhelming evidence in Catherine’s favor. It just didn’t seem to connect. Perhaps she was missing something. 

Dorothea was snapped from her thoughts by the feeling of an arm looping in her own. She looked down and saw it was in fact Bernadetta’s arm that now interlocked with hers. 

“You look like you’re a thousand miles away, Dorothea.” Bernadetta teased. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing, just a bit mentally exhausted from Friday's lecture assignment.” Dorothea said, earning a groan. 

“Oh don’t remind me. I’ve never been so confused in my entire life! The Professor really must be stressed about the battle of Eagle and Lion.” 

“Don’t be falling behind!” Petra called out from several dozen yards ahead of them on the trail. The two laughed and de-linked arms, only for Dorothea to grab Bernadetta’s hand and begin pulling her forward as they hurried to catch up. 

How she could run that fast going uphill on a dirt path wearing heels, Bernadetta would never know. 

They finally caught up to the Brigian princess at a point where the path curved around the edge of a hill, looking down on a valley below. Dorothea was about to ask why she’d stopped, when Petra held up a finger and pointed down into the valley. Both remaining women followed her finger and saw, at the base of the hill, Professor Eisner and Captain Jeralt, both rather sweaty, with their weapons discarded on the ground nearby. The Captain was sitting on a tree stump while Byleth leaned against a tree with her back to them. It took Dorothea a moment to figure out exactly what she was seeing, as their odd angle made the professor’s black attire difficult to differentiate. When she finally figured out what she was seeing, she realized that the professor’s chest was shaking, heaving almost, and her face was buried in her hands. 

“I just don’t understand.It’s like everyone is just avoiding me. like I have some sort of plague.” Professor Eisner said, her voice sounded so different, like she was on the brink of tears, or perhaps already well over it. Dorothea couldn’t remember a time she had seen the professor cry before. 

“I don’t think everyone is avoiding you, Byleth. From the sounds of it, it’s just Catherine and miss Hresvelg. I know that doesn’t make it much easier, but not everyone is trying to push you away.” Jeralt said, one hand rested on her back, patting it reassuringly. Dorothea almost laughed at the way the captain blanched after realizing that saying that hadn’t exactly helped. He looked as if he was a drowning man searching for anything to help him stay afloat. 

“It’s...it’s not just them. But she’s...that’s not important. Catherine isn’t just avoiding me, she has completely disappeared. I have not seen a trace of her. Edelgard seems to be so distracted with that Monica girl, she’s falling behind in her studies, distracted during physical training and she’s made excuses to skip out on lectures. She has missed tea three weeks in a row now.” the Professor said, fingers tangling in her own hair as she took a deep breath. Dorothea wondered if they should leave them alone, give them privacy, but this was just too juicy. 

“Why exactly are you so concerned about that, Byleth?” Jeralt asked, his tone wasn’t accusatory, but clearly pointed. 

“I’m her instructor. Her grades and training both seem to be falling behind due to this woman's addition to the class, and that training could mean her life in a battle. The tea is concerning because she gave me an absolute earful for missing one week, and yet she disappears without a word for three? That’s out of character for her, at best. The way that girl is constantly demanding her attention, it’s as if she’s obsessed with Edelgard.” Jeralt nodded, but Dorothea could tell by his eyes he was not fully convinced.

It would seem Dorothea and Manuela weren’t the only ones to have noticed how ‘close’ Edelgard and Professor Eisner had become. 

“Well, have you tried talking to her?” 

“Yes! But every time I try, Monica pulls her off onto some random errand. I had hoped when I noticed it the first week that I could address it at tea,ask her if something questionable was going on, but she never showed up and she didn’t answer her door when I tried to check on her, either.” 

“Ok, perhaps I should have phrased the question better. I meant have you tried talking to Catherine?” Jeralt asked. 

“I don’t know how to. This feels different than last time.” 

“It happened before?” 

“Once. That day you found me looking for her. She said she had some bad memories dug up, but that was just a day, this is weeks she’s been gone now. I tried going to speak to her the first few days she was back, but… I would just… I would go, and walk there, and once I got closer I could hear my pulse in my ears and...Goddess, the last time I thought something was wrong, I strode up to her door, knocked, and told her to let me help or I wouldn’t leave her alone. I didn’t hesitate, because I knew it was the right thing to do. It was the type of thing I thought you’d do...But when I tried last week all I could think of was the ways it was going to go wrong. The ways I would make it all explode in my face like a Thoron blast.” Dorothea had never heard her professor admit to fear before, even if not in those words. She had honestly been convinced the woman was incapable of feeling it. 

“Kiddo, Catherine is a good knight, and a good knight tends to have a lot of...bad memories. That doesn’t always mean they know how to handle them. That’s something your mother was very good at understanding. She helped me a lot when the ghosts of my past haunted me a bit too rabidly. Maybe Catherine needs that, but doesn’t know how to ask.” Jeralt suggested. 

“I...I just don’t know, dad. Everything just feels...empty. It just hurts and I don’t know why or how to make it stop!” 

“I know kiddo, and it’s ok. You’ll figure it all out. Come on, let’s get some more training in. A few more rounds and maybe you’ll clear your head enough to think of something. If not, I have a bottle of whisky you might just find helpful.” 

Dorothea felt two hands grab at her, the larger of the two grabbed her open hand, and another that was much smaller but no less firm that grabbed her arm right above her elbow on the side that was carrying a small basket of firewood. She turned and saw Petra and Bern dragging her away from her vantage point. Her protests were ignored, as neither seemed to care much about her rather unhealthy habit for gossip. The group walked higher and higher as the mid afternoon sun began fading into an early evening. Finally, they reached the peak of the hill, and were able to see a massive expanse of valley beneath them. The sun was now positioned behind Garreg Mach, and the outline of the school, along with the colors of the sky were absolutely beautiful to behold. 

Petra took the basket of firewood from Dorothea and began making a pile with it and some loose twigs and leaves, arranging several chunks of wood into a square stack, at least three slats tall on either side. Bernadetta began laying out her blanket on the cold dirt and dead grass, and once it was set, Dorothea picked up the Basket Petra had been carrying and moved to sit beside Berny on top of it. The wool was still warm from being in the bag against Bernadetta’s body the whole walk there. 

Petra moved to a spot on the blanket beside them, and with a wave of her hand Dorothea lit the fire that Petra had so expertly crafted. Once that was done, and they were all basking in the warmth of the flames, they moved on to opening the basket. 

Petra had insisted on wrapping the food in chainmail, claiming that the metal would help the food stay warm, but as steam began wafting out as they prepared to eat, it seemed a thin blanket had done well enough. Dorothea handed the three small wooden boxes of food out to each of them, and they all pried open the lids to see the lovely pile of seared vegetables and meat that lay inside. The steam wafting off the food smelled of unfamiliar spices to everyone but Petra, who knew the smells well, even if they were a bit out of balance to what she would’ve expected from this type of meal. 

Both her partners watched nervously as she pulled out a fork from the basket and dug into the meal. Dorothea and Bernadetta had spent hours pouring over what even they knew was a shoddy translation of a Brigin cookbook, trying to make sure the food was perfect. They were beyond terrified that they may have made some fatal mistake or another. 

Petra scarfed down the first bite, and chewed it slowly as she felt the flavors hit her tongue. This dish was traditionally more of a savory, spicy meal you would eat on a cold day to warm your stomach. The spice was there, and it was beyond tasty, but it seemed one or two spices were either mistaken or had been swapped for something else. It was almost sweet, and it mixed with the spice to make something akin to the way cinnamon burned one’s mouth and throat, but when paired with sugar made the sensation pleasant. She swallowed the bite and smiled at her two partners. 

“It is delicious. Thank you both, dearly.” Petra said, scooping another bite into her mouth, only to be interrupted by the two women practically jumping on top of her as they hugged her. 

“We’re glad you like it Petra!” Dorothea said, placing a kiss on her cheek. Petra blushed and hugged the two back. 

“C...can’t...breathe” Petra said a moment later, and the two women quickly scurried off of her. She sat up, gasping a bit, and returned to her food. Bernadetta scooted over to her own food, and was about to dig in herself when she felt a finger under her chin. Quite suddenly her head was pulled to the side, and she could feel a pair of lips against hers. She went bright red as Dorothea pulled away, giggling to herself. 

“D.D.Dorothea, what was that for!?” Bernadetta asked, her fingertips now pressed gently to the spot her partner’s lips had just been. 

“Have to make sure everything’s fair, don’t I?” she teased, sitting back down and taking a bite from her portion of the meal. The three sat there, basking in the heat of the fire and picking at their food for quite a while as they watched the sun set beyond the Monastery. 

As the sky grew darker, and the temperature dropped, they migrated closer and closer together on the blanket, and eventually were all curled up together, sat on one half of the blanket while the other was draped over them. 

Dorothea was leant back against a tree,the thick fur she wore padding the rough bark well enough as Petra laid with her head in her lap, staring at the stars. Bernadetta sat with her head resting on Dorothea's shoulder. 

“Thank you…” Bernadetta said quietly, after what had seemed like an eternity of calm, comfortable silence. Her arms wrapped around Dorothea’s midsection as she hugged her close, trapping Dorothea’s arm between the two of them. 

“If anything, I should be thanking you, Bernadetta. I’m an atrocious cook. You were the one who really made the meal shine. “ 

“No, I didn’t mean for that. Just...Thank you both. For everything.” Bernadetta’s voice cracked as she spoke, and Petra quickly sat up, trading a concerned look with Dorothea before crawling out from the blanket. Bernadetta’s breathing became ragged, rapid, and shallow. 

Dorothea turned herself as she felt her shoulder get damp, and wrapped her not-trapped arm Bernadetta as Petra came up behind her, pulling the now openly sobbing girl into a tight hug between the two of them. 

They stayed there for several long minutes, and Petra’s legs were burning worse then the fire from maintaining the crouch she was in, but she didn’t dare pull away from Bernadetta when it was clear she needed them there for her. 

No one was quite sure how long had passed, but the moon had noticeably moved in the sky once Bernadetta had started calming down. 

Neither of the other two had moved an inch. 

“Thank you...I’m sorry I kind of ruined the evening.” Bernadetta mumbled into Dorothea’s shoulder. 

“Do not apologize.” Petra reassured, finally collapsing back onto the blankets, her legs screaming in pain. “The evening has not been ruined.” Dorothea pulled her arm from between her and her partner, finally being able to wrap Berny in an actual, proper, hug. 

“You’re ok, sweets. We’re here for you. Do you want to talk about it?”She asked. 

“I… I don’t know…” Bernadetta mumbled. The three lay there, in quiet as the crackling fire slowly continued to die. “It’s just… You two make me feel… you make me feel like i’m cared for. It’s new to me.” she said, seeming to just let her mouth run, not actually thinking through her words. “When I was a child, my father was obsessed with making me into what he called ‘the perfect wife’ so he could marry me off.” Bernadetta said. Petra noticed Dorothea stiffen at the words, but Bernadetta seemed unhindered.

“What...what did he mean by that?” Dorothea asked. Her words were strained, and Petra saw one of her fists ball itself up in Bernadetta’s sweater. 

“He was convinced he could make me into some quiet, obedient housewife. He would chain me to a chair in one of the broom closets and just leave me there for hours. If I screamed, he would extend the time even longer.” Petra reached forward, rubbing Bernadetta’s hair as she started to cry again. That movement distracted her as Dorothea’s fist seemed to relax, and she finally released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. 

“It’s ok Berny. We’re not going to let that happen to you ever again. You’re safe.” Dorothea whispered, her words seeming more like a vow to some unnamed deity than any kind of friendly reassurance. 

“I just… I’m afraid. The last time I befriended someone who wasn’t a noble… he had the poor boy beaten within an inch of his life. I don’t...I don’t want to put you in danger if he found out about…” Petra cut her off. 

“We are more than capable of defending ourselves. He will not lay a hand on either of us ever, nor you ever again.” 

“We’re not some young boy, Berny, and we are not going anywhere.” Dorothea cooed, hugging the girl tight. 

“Thank you. And I know. I know you two aren’t weak, I just...that fear never really goes away, no matter how strong I know you two are, how far away I get from him, from that house. From those chains.” Bernadetta whispered. 

“Do you want to be going back to the school?” Petra asked, figuring it would be smart to not stay off of the grounds overnight mere weeks after a kidnapping had occurred. Berny nodded, but hesitated for just a moment.

“Just a while longer?” she asked, and both of the two nodded, finding a spot to be relatively comfortable as that comfortable silence settled over them, only interrupted by the crackling of the dying fire. 

Petra seemed distant as they sat there in a tangle of limbs. After a few minutes, at least that is what Bernadetta assumed it was given the progress of the fire, she spoke up.

“You’re not alone, Bernadetta. I know what it is to be… chained. I was brought here in chains to Fodlan when my people were crushed. The empire claimed we had invaded, as Dagda and Brigid had been making alliance to allow for more peaceful cooperation. The vessel they called a ‘war ship’ was barely a fishing boat. We had had no such invasion, yet they trampled us and called it a retaliation. What kind of nation occupies and slaughters another while calling it ‘defense’?...” She went silent, taking a slow deep breath as rubbed at her wrists, feeling the weight of iron that had long since left her skin, if not her mind. “In a way, I am a chain to my people. The Empire has taken me so that my people do not resist the occupation, do not fight back for our motherland as we are taught to do from birth. It is so very strange, to be chained, even if the metal is not there. I can not be returning to Brigid, and yet even if I could I do not know how I would be doing so. How do I look my people in the eye when I know the suffering they faced because of my captivity, to protect my safety? How do I explain that even here, at this school, with all of you… I still wore those chains and yet it has been years since I felt that iron.” 

“Chains aren’t just iron, Petra.” Dorothea whispered, staring at the last embers of their fire. Bernadetta could see the muscles in her jaw clenching tight just beneath the skin, as if she were ready to bury her teeth into the throat of some unseen foe. There was the unmistakable glint of tears catching the light of the flames on her cheek. “They’re so much more than that. They’re fear. Hunger. They’re the desperation of knowing what you’d be willing to do to live another day, not knowing or caring how many days you have to make those calls. It’s seeing the people you care about waste away and knowing you have no way to help them, because you are barely surviving yourself. It’s the knowledge that there’s nothing stopping a guard or noble lord from beating you or doing something so much worse if they catch you slipping, because they have nothing to fear from you like they do from someone with money. It’s knowing that you could die tomorrow and no one would notice beyond your family, and that if you’re gone, they’re likely not far behind. Those chains never leave you either. If you do manage to escape, to get out, to find your way to a place where you could help all those people you couldn’t help before… you just turn back and realize that they’re all either dead or gone. You never know if it’s to the prisons or the workhouses, not that those were ever very different, but it doesn’t matter… they’re gone and you’re just as alone as you ever were. Just as trapped as you ever were. Maybe even more so, because now you realize just how easy it would be to slip right back into the gutter you managed to bloodily claw your way out of. Then you look back at the ones who died and can’t help but wonder if...maybe they were the real lucky ones.” 

Bernadetta looked between her partners, seeing the emotions her breakdown had seemed to tear from the pits of their souls, and found herself lost on how to help. She finally did the first thing she thought of, and reached out, grabbing one and then the other before pulling them into one massive, awkward, mispositioned hug. She clung to the two of them, holding them close as all three of them tried to pull themselves into some kind of functioning state. 

Another long gap of silence, save the occasional choked sob or weak inhale, they had finally managed to do just that, and they began to wordlessly pack up before starting back on the path to school. The fire was long past dead, so a single canteen of water was more than enough to ensure it was safely out. They fit the baskets one inside of the other, and Petra carried them in one hand while the other one was wrapped around Bernadetta’s shoulder. 

Dorothea tapped her hand against Bernadetta’s, wanting to see if the touch was welcomed, and felt their fingers intertwine. The walk back to the school was quicker than from it, both with less to carry and going downhill they managed to get back into the campus in about an hour, if Petra’s guess was correct. 

They walked Bernadetta to her dormitory, and both girls said their goodbyes. Dorothea kissed her on the forehead. hugging her close and not breaking her grip until Bernadetta pulled away. Petra practically lifted Bernadetta off of the ground in a hug ,planting her back on the ground with a kiss on the cheek. 

Dorothea and Petra walked further down the hall, out the door and into the cold fall air. Petra took a deep breath in, and the sting of the cold against her lungs did little to calm her. Her voice poured out like a thick, viscous poison, ready to be smeared onto a blade and used to give one a very slow and painful death. 

“If I ever meet that “Lord Varley, I shall rend the very skin from his bones and hang him by his ankles to bleed, so it may be clear he is no better than a feral boar. Worse, even. At least a boar looks after their young.” 

“You’ll have to wait your turn then.” Dorothea said quietly, her thumb and forefinger rubbing together nervously, a small flame sparking every few seconds. “ I was….I knew a lot of girls before I went into the opera who had fathers like Berny’s. I’m...I’m glad her story wasn’t as awful as many of theirs, however awful I feel to say that I’m glad for anything to do with that. But that doesn’t make me want to roast the man alive for what he did to that poor girl any less.” They settled into a tense moment of quiet, minds full of different, but not too much so, memories and emotions. 

“Would you like me to be walking you to your room?” Petra asked. Dorothea shook her head. 

“No. I need to get some air first, and you look exhausted. Go get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning for class.” Dorothea said, about to walk away. However Petra’s fingers tugging gently on her own stopped her. She turned back and saw that they were now barely inches apart. 

“She is safe, now. Do not go making yourself ill for the wrongs you could not stop. We will make sure she is ok, that she remains safe, together.” Petra whispered. Dorothea wanted to say something back, even something as simple as ‘you’re right’, but the words seemed to fail her. Petra set her hands on her hips and pulled her closer still, and a moment later their lips met. 

The two stayed there for a long moment, but sadly one that could never be long enough. They finally separated, and Dorothea gave Petra another peck on the cheek. 

“Goodnight.” she said with a smile. 

“Sleep well, Dorothea.” Petra watched her walk away before beginning back up the stairs to her own room. She had a rather powerful urge to sharpen her sword before bed, and she was quite ready to indulge that urge. 

Dorothea hadn’t meant to start following the professor, but it was just too tempting for her to not. She knew she should go to bed. It was most definitely well past midnight, and she needed to sleep if she wanted any hope of keeping up in training, but she was having a bit of trouble worrying about Professor Eisner’s drills when she saw that same professor, who was drenched in the stench of liquor, moving down the path out of campus that Dorothea had just come in through.

She trailed far behind and tried her best to both not get caught and not lose track of the woman. Several times she thought the second had happened, but she continued on her way and each time managed to catch up. Finally, she saw the professor walking into the barracks building for the Knights of Seiros. There was no one at the door, which Dorothea had always assumed there would be as there had been on the night she had been brought to the barrack for ‘long nights of quiet conversation’ with a nice woman or two she would meet while watching the knights training earlier on in the semester. 

Bylryh simply walked into the building, bold as brass. Dorothea took a moment to remove her heels for fear of the clicking of them on the stone giving her away and followed inside. This was a massive mistake, of that Dorothea was beyond certain. She’d wandered for what felt like ages, and found not a trace of her teacher. She was beyond ready to turn around and run out of there like all hell had broken loose, and began to do just that. After another while of trying to retrace her steps she saw a turn to the right in the hall in front of her, and was certain that once she rounded the corner she’d be at the exit and could start making her way back to the campus. 

However, she must have had her sense of direction effected by the lack of sleep, because she heard her professor whispering to herself in that hall right beyond where she was preparing to turn down it. Dorothea went stock still, only moving to press herself against the wall as she prayed her professor didn’t notice her presence. 

“Sothis, I really hope you’ll be able to turn this back if I screw up. I wish you’d cut the silent act and give me some damned advice here.” Professor Eisner seemed to mutter, and Dorothea heard a knock on wood. Who the hell was she talking to? A few seconds passed, and there was another knock. She heard some faint mumbling on the other side of the wall she was pressed to, and a while later the creak of unoiled door hinges echoed through the hall. 

“What are you doing here, Professor Eisner? It is nearly three in the morning, and you’re clearly intoxicated.” A familiar woman’s voice replied. 

Was it familiar? It sounded like it was, but something about it was off. Dorothea just couldn’t place what. Perhaps she was just groggy? She had just been woken from sleep. 

“Cut the shit, Catherine. Why have you been avoiding me?” The professor asked. Even when she had been mumbling, half broken in her arms not two months prior, Dorothea remembered the professor having had more strength in her voice then she did now. 

“Avoiding implies an active intent.” that voice said. It was definitely Catherine, of that Dorothea was certain now, but she still couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong with it. It wasn’t the grogginess of sleep, she was certain of that now. Her voice was clear, but almost too clear. Was that even possible? 

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” Byleth almost spat back, her words slurring a bit. There was a heavy sigh. 

“I haven’t been avoiding you. I simply didn’t pursue you because I had no need for you or your ‘company’.” 

Granted, it had been several weeks since Dorothea’d heard Catherine’s voice, but she couldn’t remember it ever being as cold and heartless as it was at that moment. Even with her faults, Catherine was always a warm-hearted woman when she was around their class. She was always laughing, taunting, picking fights and telling stories. Now she was just...not. Her voice was lifeless and empty, like a corpse. 

“Bullshit. You spend three days sat by my side when I’m not even conscious, and then the next month you come home from a mission and don’t talk to me for over 2 weeks? I may not be the best at emotions, but I know bullshit when I hear it.” Professor Eisner said back, there were two quick sounds of rustling as she spoke. Was she grabbing something from her pocket? Perhaps poking Catherine in the chest?

“Professor Eisner, I’m going to have to ask you to keep your voice down and calm yourself when on these premises. My knights are trying to recuperate from their last deployment. I will not have you inane squabbling disturb them.” 

When the hell had Catherine started using words like ‘recuperate’ and ‘premises’? Dorothea remembered a conversation they had had several weeks ago where the woman had forgotten what the word for “singing” was! 

“Damnit, stop calling me that! My name is not “Professor Eisner”. You know my name. Use it! Please…” at that last word, the Professor’s voice cracked in a way so utterly desperate Dorothea had never thought she would hear from a woman she thought so strong. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Professor Eisner.” 

“...Get fucked, Cat.” Byleth muttered as Dorothea heard the sound of heavy steel thudding closer and closer on concrete. 

She realized she had seconds to move before getting caught, and had she not been so focused on her listening in, she may have realized what was happening quickly enough to get out of the way. However she had been, and so her teacher rounded the corner at such a pace that they nearly collided. 

At the site of her student, Byleth, who had been wiping a long stream of tears from her cheek felt her scowl turn into an expression of shock, before falling right back to a scowl. 

“Enjoy the show?”

“I… Professor I …” 

“Move.” Byleth said as she pushed past, storming down the hall. 

Dorothea stood, agog, for just a moment, until another set of footsteps came up behind her. She turned and there was Catherine standing tall at attention in her full armor. Had she been asleep in her armor? There was no way that was comfortable. It was also apparent by the smell that the armor had not been washed in quite some time. Dorothea prayed for the professor’s sake that she hadn’t been able to smell that reak through the liquor. 

“Just because your life was theater, Miss Arnault, does not mean mine is for your entertainment.” Where in the goddess’s name did she get off?! 

Dorothea wheeled her arm back, and the slap that followed was loud enough to ring throughout the halls and send Catherine to the ground in a limp heap. She remained there on the floor for just a moment too long before her eyes finally crawled open, and she began moving to stand up. Dorothea’s immediate thought had been to run, as she was afraid of a fight, but as Catherine finally made her way up to a sitting position, she seemed to clutch at her head rather than the rapidly reddening handprint on her cheek. The eyes that looked up at Dorothea from the ground seemed unfocused, and beyond confused. 

“Do...Dorothea? What are you…” she sniffed at the air, face visibly twisting in disgust. “Why do I…Ah!” She clutched at her head. Dorothea ignored her pleas to wait as she stomped off after her professor, the heavy thud of steel boots on concrete made the path out easy to follow. 

Once she was back onto the trail to the Monastery, she saw the Professor’s form off in the distance, and thought better of trying to speak to her. Given her reaction to seeing her in the hall, and the amount of liquor Dorothea had smelt on her breath when she’d told her to move, that seemed like a conversation to save for the morning. 

That intelligent decision lasted about ten minutes, at the most charitable of estimations. It ended exactly the moment Dorothea saw her professor approach a rather large pine tree just off of the path and swing her fist into it with all the might it seemed she could summon. The crack of the wood was audible even from the rather generous distance between them, as was the sound of the second strike, and the third, and the fourth. 

Each crack of breaking wood was underlined by the angry cry or shouted obscenities of Professor Eisner. After nearly a dozen swings, she collapsed onto the ground, leaning her back against the visibly dented tree trunk before sobbing into her hands. 

Byleth was, both emotionally and in regards to her intoxication level, well beyond the point of giving a damn if one of her student’s saw her cry. She had honestly forgotten Dorothea was even there as she felt her red, raw cheeks sting as fresh tears tore against worn down skin. She didn’t look up from the dirt beneath her feet, but she could hear Dorothea’s footsteps as she drew closer. 

“Professor...I swear, I had no intention of eavesdropping on you and Catherine.” 

“Dorothea, I… I don’t fucking care.” Byleth looked up, exhaustion in every sense of the word plainly visible on her face. “You’re… you’re fine. Don’t bother worrying about it.” 

“I...I’m so sorry, Professor Eisner.” 

“Don't!...Don’t call me that. Byleth. My name is Byleth. You’re barely a year younger than me, don’t fucking bother with the formalities.” Byleth said, her words slurring a bit. 

“Oh...ok, Byleth… I’m sorry.” Byleth swallowed again and wiped at her cheek, her mouth opening to speak but hesitating a moment. Her lower jaw shook a bit as she tried to find the words. 

“Why would she say those things? I thought she was… I thought I could… we could…” and the sobbing began again. Dorothea could think of nothing better, and settled on sitting beside the woman, patting her shoulder until soon enough the shoulder of her blouse that still hadn’t managed to fully dry from Bernadetta’s crying earlier was re-dampened by the professor’s own tears. 

“I… I know there’s got to be some sort of explanation, professor. That… It...it didn’t even sound like Catherine.” 

“You...you think so?” 

“I do.” 

“So, so I wasn’t crazy? I thought maybe it was the scotch, but I knew she was talking weird!” Byleth said. “Maybe...maybe she took a bad hit to the head during the mission, and had the parts of her brain devoted to not being a raging cunt broken.” Byleth laughed at her own joke, the type of hyena laughter only a drunk woman could produce. 

“She certainly got some light head trauma, at least. Come on Byleth, let’s get you back to your dorm.” Dorothea helped heft the woman to her feet, having become well practiced with the process due to her many times helping walk Manuela away from less-than-responsible drunken dalliances with this or that man or woman. She guided Byleth up the path, into the Monastery, and back to her dorm. Once the woman was planted firmly in her bed, Dorothea moved to her own bedroom. 

To have Catherine go from seemingly so warm and caring, especially regarding the Professor, however badly they tried to hide it, to suddenly being so heartlessly aloof struck Dorothea as beyond strange and certainly concerning.She worried that perhaps Byleth’s theory about Catherine having received some sort of head trauma during her last mission might have been more accurate than she had originally thought.  
Could that be why she had reacted so strangely to her slap? That almost made her feel guilty, until she remembered the conversation she’d heard between the two. If she wasn’t right, and there wasn’t something else at play, Dorothea knew she had to acknowledge that perhaps her instructor had found herself in the middle of an abusive relationship. 

She certainly hoped not. As much as Catherine seemed like a wonderful woman, were that to be the case she would not last more than a few minutes against the entire class, and the rest of the Black Eagles would surely not bat an eye if they needed to assail one or a hundred knights or former allies to protect their professor or one of their classmates. 

Dorothea let out a long yawn. Now wasn’t the time for thinking about that. She had some desperately needed sleep to try and get before she would be dragged from her bed for practice by Bernadetta and Petra.

Catherine dragged herself out of the bath, even though it felt as if she had barely been in it at all.She could tell, however, that that wasn’t the case as the sun was already just barely cresting over the treeline. Her window of time was closing and she had to move quickly.

She was thankful that the bathhouse ran overnight, as she’d absolutely stunk to heaven and back when she came to in the hallway the night before. She still was fuzzy on her memories of that whole...incident. What she did remember was not good, and she knew there was likely to be hell to pay. In a sense there already was. Judging by the hand print on her cheek, which thankfully had faded, and the pissed-off-opera-singer that had been standing above her when she came to, Catherine could guess she’d been slapped. 

But even Dorothea didn’t seem like the type to pack a punch strong enough to explain the splitting headache Catherine had developed since waking up on the floor. It only seemed to worsen when she tried to recall the night before or any of the apparent three weeks prior to it, if the calendar by the entryway to the barracks was to be believed. 

She looked back at the bath water as she dried and dressed herself. It was nearly black with the amount of sweat, dirt, grime and goddess-knows-what-else had been on her. The clothing and armor she had been wearing was disgusting as well. What had she even been doing in armor at that time of night? Let alone armor that filthy. Catherine prided herself in her maintenance of her equipment, and she could tell that whatever had happened, it had meant she’d gone weeks without polishing her breastplate. 

As she slipped on a clean set of underclothes and then a fresh pair of cream-colored pants and her matching tunic, Catherine took a moment to check her reflection in the mirror, realizing she needed to adjust ‘herself’ a bit to ensure there wasn’t any awkward shapes in her pants as she began her long, grueling walk to the Black Eagle training grounds. She wiped off the front of her recently cleaned, however sadly not polished breastplate.

The idea that this might be her last time walking towards the Black Eagle’s training grounds as a friend struck Catherine with such a bolt of fear that it was as if lightning had torn clean through her chest. 

Catherine’s hand began nervously tapping on the hilt of Thunderbrand as she marched closer and closer to her destination. She drew near, and the sun finally began showing commitment to the whole ‘rising’ agenda, to the point Catherine could see Byleth perched in the middle of the field, surrounded by half a dozen nearly shattered wooden training dummies.

Oh wonderful, she was pissed, warmed up, and clearly in the middle of her work out. 

Catherine was dead. She knew it. She was as good as dead and she didn’t even know why. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, finding a comfort in the familiar motion as she moved towards the field. Byleth noticed her almost instantly, and the way the Training dummy she had been focused on suddenly splintered from her already-in-progress-swing made Catherine swallow audibly in fear. 

She was fucked. 

“H...Hey, Letty.” She only received a series of rapid, deep breaths in reply as Byleth caught her breath and stared her down, face as blank as the day they met. Had Catherine not spent the past several months with her, she might have just seen indifference in the expression, but she knew better. The way Byleth’s eyebrow twitched every few breaths, and the fact she refused to look Catherine in the eye gave away the rage boiling below her surface. Her tunic was folded neatly on the ground, leaving her in her undershirt, pants, boots, and a rather bloody looking pair of arm-wraps. Was that from last night? Had Catherine done that? The idea horrified her. 

“So it’s Letty again? What happened to “Professor Eisner”?” 

Catherine had to hold back the urge to ask when in the hell she had ever called Byleth “Professor Eisner” since they’d started… whatever it is exactly they had been doing since Lonato? 

“Letty, Listen I..”

“Catherine, you made yourself plenty clear last night. You don’t ‘have need’ of me, I’m gone. What do you want?” Byleth rubbed the center of her palm with the thumb of her other hand, working out a tightly knotted muscle as her face dropped into a visible scowl. 

“Was that…” Catherine started, fear evident in her eyes as the words left her mouth against her own best judgement. 

“Was that what, Catherine?” Catherine could only curse herself for not thinking through her words better. She knew that what she was about to say was likely going to get her ass kicked. 

“Was that what I said?” Catherine asked. Byleth laughed.Catherine had never been so terrified by the sound of someone laughing in her life. 

“What is that supposed to mean, Catherine? Yeah, that’s what the fuck you said. I might have been pretty plastered, but I remember that part clear as day. What else did you say...Oh! I remember. You said some weird cryptic nonsense about not having been avoiding me because ‘avoiding implies active intent’, then you called my voice ‘inane squabbling’. Whatever the hell that means is beyond me. Oh! And you threatened to make me ‘vacate the premises’ before telling me to leave when I said to stop calling me “Professor Eisner” like I was just some shitty coworker and not you...friend.” Byleth shook her head, a low growl emanating from the back of her throat. “Just...What do you want, Catherine?” 

“...” 

“Say something, damnit!” Byleth screamed, stepping forward with arms extended at her sides, tired of the silence. 

“I’m...I’m sorry, Letty. I…” 

“You’re sorry?” Byleth asked, looking as if she wasn’t sure how to take that. “Catherine...What the hell is going on with you? Did you take Joe’s hammer upside your fucking head?” 

“I...maybe? The last few weeks are just a blur, at best. Last night is the first thing I remember clearly since I left to search for Flayn.” 

“Well, you seemed real clear last night, that’s for sure.” 

“No, Byleth, that’s what I’m trying to say. I barely remember any of last night before waking up on my hallway floor with Dorothea looking pissed at me and my face stinging like a son of a bitch.” Byleth laughed, and again Catherine felt terror in her gut. 

“Are you really trying to … Listen, if you’re going to try and act like it was you sleepwalking or some bullshit, you can stop blowing smoke up my ass and leave.” Byleth ordered, turning around to grab her tunic from the ground. 

“Byleth, please, please…” Catherine rested a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, turning her slowly and praying she didn’t get a fist in her throat. She finally could look her in the eye, and the wetness at their corners made Catherine’s heart ache with shame. “I... I’m not blowing smoke, ok? You know me. I’d’ve come up with something a lot better than ‘I don’t remember it’ if I was going to try and bullshit you.” This earned a rather bitter chuckle from the professor, but it was kinder than the previous two. That had to be progress, right? 

“Don’t make me laugh when I’m pissed off at you.” 

“I mean, I kind of think that’s the best time to make you laugh.” Byleth rolled her eyes, and felt Catherine's hand cup her cheek. She looked back to see Catherine’s eyes silently pleading for her to listen. “ Letty, I’m not lying to you. I have been trying all morning, and every second that passes it gets foggier and my head feels more like it’s going to burst. I...I don’t know what's going on. And…” Catherine’s voice hitched in her throat.“I...I just don’t know what’s happening to me, Letty. I’m sorry, and I’m terrified.” 

Byleth was beyond lost for words. Against all better judgement, however, she did believe Catherine. She could read this woman like a book, not that her emotions were something she was skilled at hiding, and there was fear written in every inch of her. 

“...” 

“I understand if...if you don’t want to see me again. But I needed to try.” Catherine pulled back, pulling her hand from the soft, warm skin of Byleth’s cheek only to feel the professor’s hand snap out and grab it, stopping her in her tracks. 

“Swear.” 

“W..what?” 

“Swear, to me, to the goddess, to whoever you please that you’re telling the truth. That you don’t...that that wasn’t you saying that shit.” 

“I...I swear, to the goddess herself. I have no idea what is happening to me, but...last night, that… I wouldn’t do that.” Byleth nodded, letting go of Catherine’s hand and taking a few steps away, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger as she tried to process the utter mess that was her heart and mind at that moment. Catherine could see the way her shoulders shook on every breath, and couldn’t help but feel her own breathing grow a bit strained.  
“I’m so sorry Letty. Please, let me try to make this better…” 

“I… Catherine I don’t know. This just....”

“Byleth... please…” 

“O...ok…”She said faintly, sniffling as she spoke on. She finally moved to face Catherine again, walking with intent as she grabbed her by her breastplate, pulling her in and pointing at her. “But if I find out you’re full of shit, or you pull something like that again, I will beat your ass up and down this campus until you’re properly sorry.” 

“I...I can definitely accept those terms.” 

“Good.” Byleth said, shaking her head and laughing the first happy, or at least kind, laugh Catherine had heard all morning. 

Edelgard walked beside ‘Monica’ as the two moved through campus towards the training field. She absolutely detested the situation, being left with a demonic babysitter by Those Who Slithered in the Dark. It was beyond adding insult to injury that the damned monster masquerading as a student insisted on spending every waking hour together. 

She didn’t even try to focus their time on the mission and preparations for the next steps of their plan. No, she simply insisted that she was the only one Edelgard be around besides Hubert for any extended period of time.It was infuriating, but she was trapped in utter inability to refuse. Those Who Slithered had made it clear that were she to refuse her ‘bodyguard’ that they oh-so-kindly had given her, they would rescind their support in her war effort. 

Those were the words they used, but Edelgard was no fool. If they had no need for her before she was in a position to defend herself, she had no illusions that they’d allow her to live. Her existence at the moment was contingent on her usefulness to the sick monsters who had stolen her family from her.

She was, however, not without her small reprieves. In fact the days where Monica decided her ‘student’ facade was more effort than it was worth, only to be reprimanded rather fantastically by the Professor were some of her few pleasures these past few weeks, no matter how bittersweet it was. 

The thought of the Professor made her stomach turn. It had been weeks since she’d been able to actually speak to the woman, and the sudden absence of someone she had come to find a rather rare sensation of safety around left a bitter taste in her mouth. She missed the comfort of sipping warm tea beside her instructor on Sunday afternoons, talking about absolutely nothing of importance and yet feeling as if they could go on for hours. She had refused to continue drinking her tea with ‘Monica’, as she wanted this vile creature nowhere near her favorite pastime. 

“I swear…” The vile redhead began, and Edelgard noticed her voice shifting from her voice, Kronya’s voice, into ‘Monica’s’. “You vermin seem to take no heed to the glories of the darkness. You all just skitter timidly around when the shadows can’t be avoided, biding time till that ball rises and grants you the illusion of peace, only to then realize too late that there’s no safety anywhere for creatures so weak as you.” Edelgard looked over at the thing beside her, one eyebrow raised. 

“That is a surprisingly philosophical diatribe for a creature such as you.” Edelgard said.

“Hmmmm, would you prefer to return to the inane chatter we have to maintain when the rest of your class of sniveling mongrels is around?” ‘Monica’ asked. 

“No, goddess no. If I have to hear you prattle on about some false rumor out of a town in Faergus that doesn’t exist I will surely have no more need of your services as a bodyguard for I will have thrown my head against a stone. Not to say I have any need for your services now.” Edelgard’s words flowed pointedly at the monster. 

“Well, clearly Solon and Thales think differently. Especially after that booted bitch of yours went and got herself mashed into a pancake month before last.” ‘Monica’ chuckled at the last phrase, and Edelgard felt herself chewing on her cheek, biting back the retort she had burning in the back of her throat. She couldn’t afford to create any more possibility for conflict with the ‘girl’ or the vile beasts she was kin with. 

The two arrived at the field, and to their surprise someone was already there, two someones, in fact. Edelgard saw, stood in the middle of the running track and surrounded by shattered training dummies, was the Professor with her arms wrapped around Catherine. She looked away immediately. To her relief, she saw that they were hugging, just hugging. A hot sensation crept it’s way up her neck and into her cheeks as she started to think perhaps she owed the two a bit more credit then to expect them to be doing that sort of thing on an open field. But, their track record being what it was her caution was at the very least understandable.

There was something mixed in with the pleasantness of seeing the professor. Edelgard couldn’t quite place it with certainty, but she might have missed the knight more than she had realized, given the other things she had been dealing with recently. 

“I swear, if that blue haired bitch bosses me around one more time she’s gonna have an ‘unfortunate training accident’ right off the roof of the nearest tall building.” Kronya grumbled as they moved down the hill, still barely out of earshot. Edelgard openly scowled, grabbing the ‘girl’ by her wrist and pulling, just enough to knock her off her stride. The words that left her mouth came in a tone rich with a hatred so sharp it might cut the monster. She guessed that her trying to avoid conflict with Kronya was already lost, but she knew it was beyond a bad idea.

“Dare to touch that woman, or any of my classmates unless absolutely necessary to achieve our goals, and I will ensure that your body is returned to your compatriots in bloody pieces even Solon can’t stitch into something living.” This threat only seemed to draw a chuckle from the impostor as she tried to yank her arm away. Edelgard held her grip. 

“Bold when it comes to her, aren’t you?” ‘Monica’ whispered, leaning in a bit too close as she continued. “Got a particular reason for that, El?” Edelgard felt that name dig into her like a lance, tearing into her very core and stirring the remnants of her shattered insides. 

That was not her name to use, not after what they’d done to her family. That was no one’s name to use anymore, no one’s but the dead. She would make them pay. All of them. She’d do to them what they never could do to her family; She’d exterminate their entire line, slaughter them all by wielding the will of the united people of Fodlan as a mighty steel blade with which she would carve this cancerous clan of monsters from the heart of her motherland.

Fodlan would sacrifice so much for its freedom, by the time her plot was through. She knew that, and it weighed heavy on her conscience on the best of days, but all she could do to repay that debt was rend Those Who Slithered from the shadows they hid so well in. Even if she had to do it with the last breath she ever took. Thankfully, Edelgard held some of her sense, and thought of a better way to reply than saying any of that. 

“I will not have your contempt for my kind lead you to killing someone who may be a bountiful ally in the war against the church. Or do you think Solon and Thales would appreciate you letting your laziness and rash nature put us at risk of getting discovered?” With that, Edelgard released the monster’s wrist, and the two slowly moved towards the two other women on the field. They had pulled apart, and Catherine was leaned in, one hand placed on the Professor’s shoulder, but sat so that she seemed to be running her thumb along her jawline. Edelgard only heard bits and pieces. 

“...Let me buy you dinner tonight, before you leave tomorrow?”

Edelgard saw the Professor smile weakly and nod. 

“I…I’d like that.” She said with a faint, tired smile. Edelgard felt something similar on her own lips at the site, but as she continued looking at the professor, something caught her attention. The woman’s eyes were red, just faintly, bloodshot and swollen. There were also rather considerable bags under her eyes. She’d been crying. 

There, back again, was the twisting feeling in her stomach. Yesterday was another Sunday, another tea appointment having come and gone, unfulfilled. Edelgard couldn’t help but feel as if it were her fault that the professor may have been crying, but she knew that was beyond ridiculous. The Professor seemed to enjoy their Sundays, but this was a grown woman who had better things to do. Surely she couldn’t be upset about something that must be so little to her. Edelgard kicked herself for her over-inflated ego. 

“Oh! Uh, hello Edelgard.” Catherine said, clearly being startled as she noticed the two girls, both her and the Professor pulling away from each other quickly. “I’ll see you tonight, Letty.” The knight rubbed the back of her head nervously as she began backing away, a few steps after which she turned and started walking off, away from the field. 

“Will she not be joining us, Professor?” Edelgard asked. 

“Not today. Today isn’t going to be a training day, at least not the type Cat would be interested in.” Byleth smiled, enjoying being able to say Cat’s name and not have it hurt, at least not nearly as much. “We’re going over our battle strategy for the Battle of Eagle and Lion tomorrow, while I...adore Catherine, she is not a tactician. Besides, she has a lot to deal with right now.” Byleth said, her answer slowly morphing into just meandering conversation. 

“Oh, well I’m at least glad to see her around here at all, professor. I had started to think she didn’t like us anymore.” Edelgard joked, referring to the Black Eagle class, obviously. To her surprise she actually heard that quiet gust of breath from the nose that she was relatively certain, for the professor, was a chuckle. 

“Believe me, I did too.” Byleth said as the other members of the Black Eagle class began walking into the field.All but one, that is.

Across the campus, in the staff and faculty building that housed the Audience Chambers, Library and so many other rooms, Dorothea was sat across from her long time friend and mentor, Professor Manuela. 

The young woman was toying with her own fingers, doubt seeping into every crevice of her mind as they waited patiently. 

Soon enough, there came a knock at the door, and any chance Dorothea had to back out was gone. 

“Come in.” Manuela said from her chair, worry stricken across her face. A second later the door opened slowly and the sound of heavy steel boots could be heard on the wooden floors. 

“You said you had need of me, Professor?” Jeralt asked, a hand on his hip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so explanation time: I wrote this week’s chapter without even questioning that Dorothea and Petra were roughly the same age, and thus that having a romantic scene involving Dorothea, Petra and Berny would be totally ok cus of my 1-year age jump. However, I did not know that Petra is closer to Lysithea’s age in canon, and as someone who is a survivor of abuse from an older partner, I felt skeevy as fuck for having written it and knew I could not in my good conscience just post the chapter without figuring something out. I debated back and forth for a few days about whether to leave the ages and cut out the overtly romantic elements, leave it as more the fledgling friendship building into something more later, but as my fiance put it that felt like “Gal-palling your characters through a fucking wall”. So I decided best to just retcon the ages and leave it at that so that I could safely feel not-like-a-fucking-creep. 
> 
> There is a BIG conversation that desperately needs to be had (and is being had by a lot of really amazing writers from various different nationally oppressed groups) around how media portrays young women of color and never really allows them to be children. I think this is a good example of how that kind of writing can lead fans of content to reinforce those issues without even realizing it. Now, I am not the person to be leading that conversation, and i’m never gonna front that I am, and so my response as a writer has been to simply address the most glaring issue as it manifested in my writing, moving to ensure that issue doesn’t pop up again (hence Ashe) and owning my fuckup while giving yall a ‘look behind the curtain’ for my writing process. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this week’s chapter, and I’ll see y’all next week. Let me know your thoughts on this weeks update, and all the gay shit and chaos that you got to see. Please comment! lemme hear your theories! What the hell is going on???? I love y’all’s feedback and it always warms my heart to talk shop. 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage


	15. Chapter 15: Aweful Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothea does what she thinks is best to protect Byleth, Jeralt does his best not to let his instincts as a father get before his duty as a Captain, Byleth and Catherine have to cancel their dinner date but still take some time to "reconnect", Catherine talks to an old...friend(?) and Claude nails Byleth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall! Later update than usual! But, still keeping my word on the updates lmao. Every time I try to put up a shorter update it always ends up somehow growing, lmao, I swear it's just a curse at this point. BUT, I hope as always you enjoy the read. 
> 
> Warning, today's update DOES include a lot of shit. There's smut this chapter, references to abuse, lots of emotional shit, so just be forwarned. 
> 
> As always, thanks to all my rad homies and comrades who helped me put this together. I'll give my usual plug to The Unqualified 1 (She's anything but) https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1/pseuds/The_Unqualified1
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this week’s chapter, and I’ll see y’all next week. Let me know your thoughts on this weeks update, and all the gay shit and chaos that you got to see. Please comment! lemme hear your theories! What the hell is going on???? I love y’all’s feedback and it always warms my heart to talk shop.
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage

“You said you had need of me, Professor?” Jeralt asked, a hand on his hip. 

“Yes, Sir Eisner. I apologize to bother you while you’re ‘on the clock’ but my dear Dorothea here brought some things to my attention that...muddy the line between personal and professional. I thought it best to bring them to your attention at once.” Dorothea looked over and saw the Captain moving towards a chair beside her, facing her as opposed to Manuela. The way he sat, elbows propped on his knees and leaning forward was strikingly familiar. 

“What’s the matter, miss Arnault?” His voice was steady and calm, and it gave her some hope that perhaps she wasn’t making a bad decision by bringing this to his attention. 

“It...It’s to do with the Professor. Byleth has been...getting rather close to a knight, and while they aren’t blatant about it when they’re around us, most of us have put two and two together and were happy to just leave it unacknowledged. It’s her business after all, even if it is fun to gossip. There were some things that I have been noticing that after some recent events made me worried.” Dorothea’s attempt at an explanation had turned to rambling rather quickly as she stumbled over her own words. 

“Dorothea, dear, just tell Jeralt what you told me.” Manuela offered a reassuring smile, and the girl nodded before restarting. 

“I...I followed the professor to the knight’s barracks early this morning, or rather late last night. She was rather obviously intoxicated and I was worried she might go stumbling into a ditch and break her leg. I overheard her and Catherine speaking, and the way the knight was acting seemed so… different to how we usually saw her. I’ve been noticing scattered bruises or bite marks here and there for a while now, and I always disregarded them as byproducts of training, or personal things, but the things I heard last night make me wonder if something is wrong between the two of them. Very wrong.” 

Jeralt sat there, quietly, and Dorothea had the strangest sensation of looking at a rattlesnake right before they struck. All of the muscles pulled tight, ready to burst out. 

“Tell me everything you heard. Do not leave a detail out” Jeralt’s tone was so flat and expressionless that it made his daughter's cadence at the beginning of the year seem as if it were an emotional ballad. It made the question sound as if he was asking how large of an axe to bring to Catherine’s execution. Dorothea did as she was told. 

The Black Eagle’s strategy meeting went smoothly enough, as Byleth laid out a basic plan she’d broken down over the past few days for the battle ahead. The class would charge as one massive unit into the Ballista at the center of the field, securing it for their own. After that Bernadetta and a small group would be left to man the weapon and ensure it stayed in their hands while the others split into two mostly-identical teams to assail the other classes directly. 

After several hours, once it seemed everyone had an at least reasonable idea of their roles and assignments, Byleth dismissed the class for the day. 

“Allright, everyone take advantage of tonight, and sleep well. We’ll need everyone on their best if we want to win tomorrow. Remember, we’re meeting at the south gate at dawn. Do not be late.” Byleth said pointedly, and Linhardt felt an elbow in his side as he shot up in his chair, snapping out of his daze. He looked to see the elbow belonging to Caspar. 

“I’ll make sure he gets up on time, Professor.” the blue haired student said, matter-of-factly. 

“Thank you, Caspar. It is appreciated.” Byleth acknowledged. 

“And I shall be making sure that Dorothea is told of her responsibilities!” Petra declared, earning a nod and thanks from the Professor. 

Edelgard stood, moving towards the front of the class where Byleth had begun pouring over her notes, back to the class. She was nearly there when an hand wrapped around her wrist. 

“Come on Edelgard, let's go get some food!” ‘Monica’ said in that sickly sweet tone she used whenever others were around. Edelgard knew better than to argue with the girl as she pulled her away, but flashed Byleth a slightly apologetic smile that was lost on the Professor’s turned back.

Catherine knocked on Byleth’s door later that night, and she could feel her heart practically beating out of her chest. She took a deep breath and looked down, trying to calm her nerves. 

She wasn’t one much for fancy clothing, or clothing much at all besides what she wore under her armor and half cape. But she did not want to risk screwing this up. She was in her armor, finally polished back to an absolute mirror shine, and she has even gone so far as to brush and polish her boots. 

Her sword and weapons had been left at her barracks, as while she could only hope there was no harm in her using knights armor as date wear, she did not think it a good idea to try to bring a legendary weapon into any kind of place they’d likely try for dinner. She heard footsteps, and tried to put on a casual grin, putting up her bravado as best she could. That bravado pretty quickly faltered when a pajama-clad, groggy-eyed Byleth opened the door, 

Well,Catherine assumed they were meant to be pajamas, as they seemed rather unfitting on the professor. It took Catherine a second longer than it likely should have for her to realize that Byleth was wearing a pair of her pants, likely ones she’d left behind from their week together after her accident. 

“Hey Letty, um, how’re you feeling?” Catherine asked, her tongue seeming to feel heavy. Why did she have a bad feeling about this?

“Hey, Catherine. I’m ok, just waking up.” the professor replied, Catherine chuckled, more nervously than she would have liked to think. 

“Yeah...I can see that. You look cute.” Catherine said. 

“Thanks, jerk. You look really nice yourself.” Byleth smiled just slightly, and Catherine felt so much of the worry in her chest melt away. “I don’t think I can really go out for dinner tonight. After yesterday….I’m sorry…” and there it was, crawling right back. 

“No, no no Letty it’s ok. I get it. Last night...from what you told me about how I was acting, I wouldn’t blame you for not being too excited about a dinner.” Catherine scratched at the back of her head, holding her smile up at her lips but feeling it fall from her eyes. She found her mind racing as she thought about the possibility of what if she didn’t just mean dinner. What if this was her last time talking to Letty, and tomorrow she’d be passing by “Professor Eisner” in the hallway without a nod or glance. She felt her eyes sting a bit and started backing up slowly, hoping to at least escape the night with her dignity. “You enjoy the rest of your night then, let…” She was about to turn and fucking run when Byleth grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, rolling her eyes. 

“I really wish people would stop interrupting. I’m not even done with my sentence.” she said, chuckling to herself and looking back at the blonde whose wrist she now held in a death grip. “I was trying to say that I only got about three hours of sleep last night, I don’t think a trip into town would be too smart of me. But, if you’re ok with rescheduling for the day after the big fight, I’d be happy to.” Byleth’s grin grew wicked. “Besides, I’m not as hungry when I’m tired, so it’ll be a better way of making it even, making you pay for my food after a massive fight.” Catherine’s eyes went wide in horror; she'd seen what Byleth could put away on an average day. After a day's hike to the field, a massive fight, and the hike back… Catherine could feel her savings dwindling as they spoke. 

But, after another second she shook the thought away, just happy to not in fact be getting dumped by a woman wearing her pants while she did it. 

“That sounds perfectly fair to me. So what do you want to do about tonight?” Catherine asked, she looked around, the evening sun was already starting to set. She supposed they could take a walk, but Byleth had just said that she was tired. She turned back to the professor, still looking away as she spoke. “We could go see what the dining hall is oh!” Catherine exclaimed as she felt something grasp the edge of her breastplate, yanking her forward into the room. 

She felt herself being thrown around in a way that seemed rather ridiculous considering her size, but by the time she landed, her back connecting with something soft, she started to be able to piece together exactly what was happening. 

The hungry look that seemed to have taken over Byleth’s expression was her first big hint, the long, strong fingers clutching the inside of her breast plate in an iron grip didn’t hurt either. The biggest hint was, however, when the blue haired woman began crawling into her lap. “Oh…” she said, chuckling a bit awkwardly. “So, that’s what.”

“Is that ok?” Byleth asked, leaning back so her weight was rested on her heels, less so than Catherine’s lap and slowly growing ‘tent’. 

“Oh believe me, it’s beyond ok. I uh, guess i’m just surprised you want to.” Catherine continued, praying to the goddess that something would let her shut up. The feeling of Byleth’s finger pressing against her lip did just that. The professor chuckled softly, hooking a finger under Catherine’s chin and lifting so she’d look her in the eye. 

“Catherine, I haven’t ‘felt’ you in over a month. Considering your concern about our… activities straining me after my accident, and then your… absence after that. Believe me.” Catherine felt the professor lean in, the lips pressing against hers lit a fire in Catherine’s core that seemed as if it May burn her alive from the inside. The blue haired woman pulled back, just barely, and whispered her next few words. “There is very little that I want right now more than you. To feel you, taste you…” Catherine needed nothing more. She was more than on board by the time their lips had pulled apart, but hearing those words from Byleth, from her Letty, made her heart hammer in her chest so powerfully she worried her sternum might break. “So, would you.” Byleth was about to be cut off by Catherine's fingers burying themselves in her hair, when the blonde knight felt both of her wrists being grabbed and pinned against the bed. “What did I just say about not interrupting me?” She whispered into the knight’s ear, grinding down on the firm length straining against Catherine’s pants.

“Sorry. Right. Continue, please.” Catherine muttered through grit teeth, however her lips were pulled up into an obvious grin. 

“Would you like to spend the night?” Byleth asked, the implications clear in her tone. “Or would you rather simply share the bed when we go to sleep.” She continued, and Catherine felt the grip on her wrists loosen just a bit. She wasn’t let go of, but it was a clear sign. She was under no obligation to say yes. 

“Let my wrists go.” Catherine whispered, her tone seeming to shift in an instant from permissive to commanding. Byleth did, leaning back up. She expected to be told to move from her lap as well, taking it as a ‘no’, and was about to move to do just that. 

That was why she was surprised when Catherine’s gloved fingers became buried in the short blue spikes of her hair, pulling their mouths back together, as they sat there on the edge of the bed.

Byleth felt herself sink further into her partner’s lap, the friction against her shaft drawing a soft moan from Catherine’s lips as she curled her fingers, pulling Byleth’s hair as the woman’s tongue slid into her mouth. 

Byleth found herself enthralled as she felt her lover’s tongue slide against her own, the two wrapping around each other playfully. Catherine tasted like honey ale and mint, with the scent of the polish on her armor mixing to make a flavor in her mouth that was so strange, so very very strange and yet so very ‘Cat’.

Byleth put her hands to undoing the leather straps on her Cat’s armor, her fingers maneuvering the intricate fastenings with practiced ease, the break clearly not having done much to dull those instincts. 

The chest piece was thrown aside with a heavy clang, and the professor filled her fists with bunches of the thick fabric of Catherines under-coat. 

“May I?.” Catherine asked bluntly, her own fingers moving to the bottom of the undershirt that clearly was one of her own by the way it hung loosely on the professor’s frame. Byleth smiled and nodded. Quick enough the shirt was discarded and Catherine’s lips were pressed against the base of Byleth’s neck. 

There was a bolt of lightning through her as as Catherine brushed her tongue against the small paint on her collarbone that she loved so much to tease.

“There it is.” Cat muttered under her breath as she felt the shudder travel through her lover’s body. 

“Shut up, you ass” Byleth whispered back through a chuckle. 

“What? It’s not my fault it's cute when you shiver.” Catherine slid her tongue slowly along Byleth’s collarbone and up the crook of her neck, drawing out an even more intense reaction from the woman in her lap. When Cat leant back she could hear the beginning of a whine on her partner’s lips, and she grinned evilly as she took a deep breath and slowly blew onto the spot where her tongue had just been, the remnants of moisture going cold against Byleth’s warm skin, only worsening the woman’s agitation. 

“Stop fucking teasing me, Cat.” Byleth practically ordered, but her words were still barely above a whisper.

“So soon?” 

“I’ve gone long enough without you, already.” Catherine grabbed at her throat, the tips of her thumb and pointer finger pinched around the curve of Byleth’s jaw, and with that grip she easily forced her down, staring into her eyes. The feeling of the rough leather against her skin was more pleasant then Byleth wanted to admit. 

“Then tell me what you want, and I’ll happily oblige.” Catherine ordered. Byleth drew her thumb slowly along the blonde’s bottom lip. 

“Your tongue. I. Want. Your. Tongue.” 

“Then” Catherine stood as she spoke, hefting her partner onto the bed and hooking her thumbs into the waistband of the cream-colored pants at Byleth’s waist, and pulling them off with ease. “Let’s begin.” 

Byleth felt Catherine’s tongue drag slowly along her stomach, down from the tip of her clavicle, around her navel, then to the edge of her underwear. She grit her teeth to suppress a whine as she felt Catherine moving back up her stomach, and yet again the sudden feeling of cool breath against her wet skin sent a shudder through her. 

“Quit the fucking teasing!” Byleth begged, the pounding in her ears getting unbearably loud as she gripped one fist full of her partner’s hair, the other hand dug into the bedsheets. Catherine laughed, and a second later Byleth let out a gasp as she felt teeth pinching at her stomach, just above her waistband. Those same teeth moved and bit at the edge of the fabric, slowly dragging it down. 

Catherine didn’t waste a second, sliding her head between Byleth’s thighs, dragging her tongue along her clit, flicking it before wrapping her lips around and sucking at the sensitive flesh. The grip in her hair tightening, along with the sharp gasp she heard muffled through the thighs clamped around her head, was sign enough that she was indeed hitting the mark. She let her tongue roam, flicking at Byleth’s clit, sliding inside, exploring every possible part of her partner’s arousal. 

As time went on, Catherine moved from exploring to instead focusing her effort on Byleth’s clit, flicking, teasing, and sucking more and more as she could slowly feel her partner’s thighs clamping tighter and tighter around her head. 

Byleth hadn’t made a noise that wasn’t some type of pant, moan, or desperate whine since she’d started, and Catherine heard a gasped, strangled moan escape her lips as the legs around her head practically cracked her skull with the pressure, before finally going limp on her shoulders. Catherine leaned back, wiping her chin with her fingers and taking a moment to lick them clean. Goddess, how she had missed that taste. 

Byleth was panting on the bed, trying to regain her breath as she was flooded with an absolutely overwhelming sensation of weightlessness. She didn’t know if it was just the ‘dry spell’ or whatever had made so much else in her life different as of late, but this was unlike anything she’d felt before. Her body ached for more, and the drumming beat in her ears from the beating of her heart made it hard to focus on anything beyond the woman now standing up between her legs. 

Byleth felt her pulse spike even higher as Catherine’s fingers dug into her hair, pulling her up into a hungry kiss. Byleth didn’t even wait for her partner’s tongue to tease her bottom lip before opening her lips and allowing the tongue that had just been between her legs into her mouth. 

The taste of what she could only assume was ‘herself’ flooded her senses and made her even more lightheaded. The only thing that drew her mind away from the tongue in her mouth was the firm length pressing against her stomach, clearly aching to be inside her as well. 

Catherine was not always in the mood to go that far. On what she called her ‘bad days’ she would call an end to the night once Byleth was satisfied, but at that moment all she wanted, all she could think about, as little as she really was able to ‘think’ considering the amount of blood that was currently other places than in her brain, was how much she needed Byleth, how much she had missed her, how desperately thankful she was to not be without her.

The two of them panted weakly, Catherine’s forehead pressed against Byleth’s, her hand still tangled in her partner’s thick blue hair. Byleth trailed her fingers down Catherine’s stomach, brushing along the length of the ‘tent’ in her pants. The question on Byleth’s lips clearly written out with the tentative teasing of her finger, ready to be drawn away at the slightest sign of discomfort. 

“Is…” Byleth didn’t finish the question, instead letting it just sit there, in the air between them. Catherine answered with a nod yes, before pulling her back into a kiss. Byleth tried her best to slide Catherine’s length free from her clothes, finding it rather difficult, given how distracting Catherine’s tongue was as it toyed with her own. 

But soon enough it was free, and Byleth could feel it, slick with the signs of Catherine’s own excitement as she began stroking it as best she could. Catherine pulled away, her breath catching from the teasing 

“Byleth…” she whispering into her ear. “I...please…” 

Byleth nibbled on Catherine's earlobe, beyond the point of trying to answer with words, instead grasping Catherine by her shoulder, pulling her forward as she lay back in the bed. 

Catherine took the hint, grasping Byleth’s thighs with her hands and lifting them up to rest on her shoulders. As she reached up, regaining her grip on Byleth’s hair with one hand, she took a deep breath and slammed her hips forward.

Byleth bit her lip, moaning as she felt the sudden intrusion. While Catherine wasn’t much larger than ‘average’, she was not as experienced with ‘anatomy’ like Cat’s in bed, and it was still quite a bit to take all at once after such a long break. 

Catherine had to pause a moment to keep herself from cuming right at that moment, digging her nails into Byleth’s thigh and feeling her grip on the mess of blue hair tighten. Once she had finally found her composure, she rocked her hips back slowly, sliding out just an inch or two before pushing back in, then another inch, and back, slowly working herself up until soon Byleth could feel Catherine smashing against her insides over and over, like a battering ram. Byleth’s nails dug into Catherine’s back, and as it went on Catherine could swear she could feel it draw blood. She neither knew nor cared enough to check. In all honesty, she was appreciative for the pain, it helped her mind focus on trying not to finish too quickly. 

She was in absolute bliss, an out-of-breath, desperate bliss as she pulled Byleth by her hair into every thrust. She pressed down on Byleth’s thigh as she continued her heavy thrusts, taking the gasp it seemed to draw from Byleth as a sign to keep going. She was nothing if not obedient to that sign, speeding up as best she could and hearing more and more vocal responses from the woman below her. 

“Cat...D….Don’t stop….” Byleth whispered. On any other day, Catherine would have replied with some smartass remark. But at that moment, hearing her partner’s desperate moans, feeling her tighten around her cock, and the feeling of the tightening in her stomach, she was happy to just do as she was told, and be thankful it was Byleth telling her to do it. She tried to push herself even faster, harder, and she could feel herself drawing closer to the end. 

Catherine buried her teeth in Byleth’s shoulder, just below where it met her neck, and felt her partner clench around her. 

“Fuck...Cat!” Byleth’s words failed her, barely able to breath beneath the weight of the woman on top of her, and the pressure from her own knees being pressed to her chest. But that lack of air didn’t seem to hinder her as she felt a wave of pleasure flow over her, every muscle feeling as if it were at once had been clenched tight only to relax in an instant. 

Catherine lasted about a second longer than Byleth, but as she felt her partner shudder below her, she pulled out, just barely sliding fully out before her own orgasm hit her like a warhammer, her teeth digging in even harder to Byleth’s skin as her cock twitched, covering Byleth’s stomach with several strands of her cum. 

They stayed there, entangled in eachother’s limbs as they tried to regain their breath. After however long that lasted, Catherine stood back just long enough to move to an unoccupied part of the bed before collapsing onto it. Byleth moved closed and curled up in Catherine’s arms as they lay in the disheveled bed. She could feel the spots where she’d likely be bruised by the morning. That tingling sensation of a mark slowly developing was one she’d missed so much. 

Catherine lay there, starting at the ceiling as she regained her breath. While her mind had been blissfully empty, occupied with preparing for the date that never happened and then by their ‘activities’, it was now slowly growing clouded again with the mix of fear and anxiety that had been filling her all that day.

She wasn’t sure what could be happening to her, but she knew it was something that could only end badly if she didn’t figure it out. She had a few ideas about where she could start, but that thought only made the wrenching in her gut worse. There was one person in this school that had known her longer than anyone else, and who knew her better maybe even then Byleth. It just was rather unfortunate that that woman happened to be her ex. She was going to have to talk to Shamir. 

Sometime after that, they both drifted off to sleep, Byleth snoring quietly with her head rested on Catherine’s chest. The mess of blue hair atop the professor’s head always tickled her nose whenever she laid like this, but Catherine would be damned if she was gonna let something so little as that bother her.

Some time later, Catherine felt the instructor starting to stretch and wriggle around a bit in bed beside her. It was pretty standard for her to do so on mornings when she awoke on her own, and not by some outside disturbance. It was cute. 

“For the love of the goddess, Byleth, it aint even dawn.” Catherine’s griping from the bed was quickly silenced by a feather pillow hitting her in the face. The knight just left it there, muffling the sound of her voice as she continued. “The hell could be so urgent as to get you up at this hour? It isn’t even a training day.” 

“True, but it is in fact the day of the Battle of Eagle and Lion. Which I and my class will be attending.” 

“Oh shit, that’s right.” Catherine still wasn’t quite adjusted to just how much time was missing from her memory. 

“Then I’m assuming you will not be in attendance.” Byleth said, pulling her undershirt off and tossing it aside as she grabbed a clean one from the ‘clean’ pile in the corner of her room. At least she thought it was the clean pile. 

“No. I don’t think so. I have a few things I need to check out today, and I should probably talk to your dad and see what the hell happened that I was able to skate by three weeks with no jobs.” Catherine’s head ached just at the thought of the conversation she would need to have that day. 

“Well, it’s rather unfortunate you won’t be able to attend. I know Caspar and Petra were hoping you’d be there to see what they’d been able to learn.” This drew a soft groan from the knight. 

“Oh that’s just playing dirty, Letty.” Catherine grumbled, she still had yet to move the pillow from her face. 

“Call it pay back.” Whether or not Byleth was smirking physically, Catherine could hear the smug self-satisfaction in the woman’s voice. Catherine grumbled, she did admittedly have quite a bit to be paid back for. Finally she removed the pillow and moved to prepare for the day.

When Byleth arrived at the gate out of the Monastery, she was astounded to find Leonie, fast asleep and leaned up against the wall beside the gate. 

Byleth knelt down, nudging the girl gently on the shoulder, and as she groggily muttered some unintelligible response, Byleth could see the heavy bags beneath her eyes. Eyes which, after another nudge, crept open just barely before shooting open, starling Byleth as much as it seemed she had startled Leonie. 

“Ah! P..Professor!H...how long have you been there?” Leonie asked as she stood up, adjusting the small pack of travel rations the entire class had been instructed to pack. 

“I could ask you much of the same. You’re here rather early.” Byleth took a step back, resting her hand on her short sword. Leonie chuckled nervously as she spoke, and Byleth didn’t need to be a brilliant detective to tell something was wrong. Her uniform was disheveled, looking hastily put on and, from what little Byleth could parse in the dark, dirty. 

“Oh, well, you know, I just am really excited for the battle today! Wanted to get here early and um, scope out our competition.”

“Leonie, the Deer are leaving out the north gate, and the Lions are going to be leaving through the east.” Byleth pointed out. 

“Oh, right! Well, I just was meaning that I was wanting to hopefully see anyone on their way to one of the other gates!” Leonie course corrected, and Byleth wondered if she ought to point out that no one would be passing by, as they would be going north and east respectively, but she thought better to just bypass that. 

“Leonie, what is going on?” Leonie looked as if she were intent to protest, raise some further excuses, but it was clear she was just not up to it. She heaved a sigh and collapsed back onto the ground. 

“...I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t been able to for a while now.” 

“At all?” 

“No, it’s not that bad. I just don’t tend to stay asleep, and making myself go to sleep gets harder and harder.” She said, shaking her head as it almost seemed to lilt down before snapping back up. Byleth sat on the ledge of the base of the wall and leaned forward, arms on her knees. 

“What’s been going on?” 

“It’s stupid.” 

“Did I ask about that?” Byleth raised an eyebrow, and she heard Leonie laugh. 

“No, I guess you didn’t...ok. It’s just… I have been having nightmares. Bad ones.” Byleth nodded, chewing her cheek a bit as she figured she knew where this was going. 

“What about?” 

“It’s about the Tower. That’s when it all started, I guess. The night we were sleeping at the inn…” Leonie tried to calm herself as she drew in a deep breath, feeling her ribs and lungs strain under it before slowly letting it out. She felt Byleth’s hand patting her on the shoulder, and in an odd way it helped. “It’s...It’s just running. Just running higher and higher and higher and never stopping. We keep going up more and more stairs, and I’m just lost in this huddle of fleeing bodies. At first, it’s not so bad. I'm not entirely alone, because I know Ashe is there, but then the hallways narrow, and I am lost in a bunch of knights I don’t know. After running for what feels like forever, I finally get to the top and...And I see you, getting crushed, and no matter how fast or far I run, I never reach you.” Leonie finished, her hand crawling up at some point to a charm carved in old and faded wood that hung from around her neck. 

“What is that?” Byleth asked. 

“Oh, It’s...it was a gift from Jeralt, back when he came to my village.” Leonie said, blushing a bit at the embarrassment of having been toying with it without thinking. 

“That’s very sweet, that you’ve held on to it all these years. Dad really means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” Byleth didn’t really know why she would ask, but it seemed to flow naturally. She slid down the stone wall, thudding onto the ground beside Leonie, and for a moment she wasn’t her professor, or instructor, she was just her peer. 

“He does. My dad never really was around when I was young. It was always just me and my mom. She never really told me where he went...or maybe ‘how’ would be a better word for that.” 

“That sounds very lonely.” Byleth said, not as an insult but just a statement. 

“Not really. At least not for me. My village has always been pretty tightly knit. The land we live on is difficult to farm on good seasons, and so we never really had much of an opportunity to become isolated from each other. Everyone looks after each other because we know that one day it’ll come back to us if we don’t, when there’s no one there to help us.” 

“That sounds a lot like how life was in the brigade. Survival was hard, no matter where we were, so everyone looked after each other. Even if it was only me and dad, it never felt lonely.” 

“Your mom wasn’t around?” 

“No. She was gone long before I could remember. I only met her here a few weeks ago.” 

“Oh my goodness, professor that’s wonderful!” Leonie said, perking up a bit. Jeralt has never mentioned a wife.

“Thank you, if you’d like I can show you her grave some time, introduce you as well.” Byleth didn’t notice the wide-eyed horror that came across Leonie’s face, even with the smile still stuck there by nothing but pure horror. 

“Oh….ok...I’d...like that.” Leonie said, trying to salvage the situation. 

“So, from the sounds of it, you’ve never really been alone, have you?” 

“Not really, I guess. Coming here was kind of the first time in my life where it was...just me.” 

“Well, then I suppose you’re lucky it’s not just you.” 

“How do you mean, professor?” 

“You kids really don’t listen to me when I talk about what ‘comrades’ mean, do you?” Byleth asked. 

“Is now really the best time to lecture me on not paying attention when you lecture me?” Leonie shot back. 

“When it’s getting in the way of you being able to keep yourself healthy, yes! I don’t know what it is about your class, but you all seem so determined to attack everything on your own. You’re part of a class, a team. You’re not alone and you all need to fucking learn that. Even when the chips are down, and you’re one person versus a thousand, your team has helped you grow and learn in a way you never could on your own, and that means that even if they aren’t around you, you’re never without them.” Byleth shoved Leonie in the shoulder and the poor girl almost fell over. She laughed as she righted herself, rubbing her arm in the spot the professor had hit. It hurt a lot more than she’d like to admit. 

“I...I suppose your right, Professor.” 

“I know the feeling, though. I...I had a friend I thought I could always rely on, could always ask for help, and for so long I didn’t even feel...well anything, really, towards her. Then all of a sudden she was gone, and everyone around me seems to be going absolutely mad, and I’m just left wondering what the hell is going on, and if everyone else is acting strange or if there’s just something that I'm missing. “ 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it all out, professor.” 

“Nix the professor. It’s Byleth. I’m tired of you all acting like I’m some old hag. In different circumstances, I’d be a student alongside all of you. Hell, that Mercedes girl in the Lions is two years older than I am.” 

“Didn’t you call us all kids less than a minute ago?” 

“Well, that’ll stop when you all stop acting so fucking stupid.” 

“I don’t think i’ve ever heard you swear this much before, professor.” Leonie laughed, and Byleth could only roll her eyes.

“It’s been...a long couple of days.” 

“Sounds like it.” 

Joseph and Fredrique walked up the path from the barracks to their usual training grounds, on their way to begin their morning drills. 

“I’m just saying, maybe she is already out here training.” Fredrique offered to his larger compatriot. 

“I don’t buy it. She’s been acting strange and dodging practice for weeks now, then she comes to morning practice yesterday, and then is nowhere to be found today. It’s concerning.” Joseph hefted his axe over his shoulder as he spoke. 

“Babe, maybe she’s just been hanging out with that teacher. They’ve been going at it for a while now.” 

“Reekee, for the love of the goddess have some decency.” The shorter red haired man’s face came to be almost matching with the locks on his head. 

“I didn’t mean like that! I just meant they’ve been seeing rather fora while. You saw how she was acting after the mission last month. She’s probably not left her girl’s all month doing her lovey dovey shit.” 

“Oh? Like a certain redhead I know who felt so heartbroken he forgot my birthday that he went and…” Joseph taunted. 

“Babe, shut up.” Fredrique whispered. 

“Reekee, what the...Good morning, Captain Jeralt Sir!” Joe said, striking a proper stance. Fredrique was already doing the same. The captain looked pissed, and that would be putting it lightly. 

“Joseph, Fredrique. Just the men I’m looking for. Have you seen your commander? I need to have some words with her.” The Captain’s voice made the order clear. The two knights dared not exchange a glance, but they knew well enough if the Captain was this pissed on the outside, Catherine was in for a world of hurt if he found her first. 

“No sir. We haven’t seen her in days. We assumed she was on a mission.” Joseph lied through his teeth. 

“Well, she’s not. She’s not at the training grounds, and I haven’t been able to find her in the barracks. Damnit!” Jeralt griped as he shook his head. He had more than just words for Sir Catherine. He’d been stewing on what that girl from his daughter’s class had told him for far too long, and he was prepared to raise hell on Fodlan just to rain it down on that damned jackass. “If you find her, I want the both of you to bring her to my office. Do not hesitate, no matter what she says. Understood?” Both men nodded and gave a salute. “Good.” 

Joseph and Fredrique stood at attention until the Captain was well down the path away, before releasing it with a sigh of relief. 

“We gotta find Cat. Now.” Fredrique whispered, looking around quickly. 

“Come on, I think I may have an idea.” Joseph said, before the two began running the way they had come, moving toward the barracks. 

Once Byleth had been sent away with her class, Catherine let their group get a few minutes head start before she quickly left out the same gate, not wanting to be seen by the class. She turned off of the main path and headed for the barracks of the Knight’s of Seiros, her palms growing sweaty as she grew closer and closer. 

It was quick enough to get to the quarters and trace her ways through the familiar, identical hallways. After a few minutes, she stood outside of the well-worn green door that she had at one point felt so comfortable behind that she would’ve walked in without even a knock. That however was not her today, and had not been her for quite some time. 

She slammed her knuckles against the dense wood, and a second later it was cracked open to reveal a rather annoyed Shamir. When the blue eyes peeking through the crack saw who it was knocking, they softened, but still held distaste at being bothered on her day off. 

“What do you need, Catherine?” The terse tone Shamir’s voice was intimidating, even if Catherine did have more than 6 inches in height and nearly a hundred pounds on her. 

“Hey, Shamir, I know this is going to sound strange but...I need to ask you some questions...about us.” The door slammed promptly in her face. “Shit, Shamir, come on! I know things didn’t end so well, but I… something weird’s been going on lately and I don’t know what is happening. I thought maybe you could help me get my head set on right.” Catherine pleaded from the other side of the door. There was no answer. She sighed and let her head drop, smacking her forehead onto the door and just leaving it there. “Shamir...Please...I need help.” There was another drawn out moment of silence, and then Catherine found herself stumbling for balance as the door moved away. Shamir grabbed the woman and pulled her in, slamming the door before shooting her a scowl. 

“Didn’t end well? That’s a rather comical way to phrase it, even for you Catherine.” Shamir’s words had all the malintent of poison on an arrowhead. “I’ve been happy enough to try and remain professional, even friendly since your little stunt, but this is too damned far. What in the name of your goddess could possibly be so important you felt the need to dredge this back up?” Catherine wasn’t sure if it was the ‘being yelled at’ or the reference to a stunt that made no sense to her, but whichever it was something left her dumbfounded and grasping for a response. 

“I..listen I just...shit’s been really weird lately ok! I feel like I'm losing touch with reality, and I don’t know what the hell is happening, or if it’s new, or if it’s something I've just been dealing with and it’s got me worried.” Catherine’s words came out like lightning, faster than she could really comprehend what she was trying to say. “W...wait, what do you mean my ‘stunt’?” She asked after a brief pause to collect her thoughts.

“I...what else could you possibly think I mean?” Shamir asked, as if Catherine had just slapped her across the face and asked her why she was upset. 

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m fucking asking, Mimi!” The hurt that showed in Shamir’s eyes was plain to see when the name rang out of Cat’s mouth. 

“Don’t call me that. You lost any right to call me that a long time ago.”

“I’m... I’m sorry. But please, I need your help.” The exhaustion in her voice was thick, settling on the words, and the woman’s shoulders, like a heavy tar that seemed to drag everything around it down.

“Ok, damnit, let’s try something else. If we go down that rabbit hole all i’m going to want to do is kick your ass and throw you out, and you’ll just come crawling back.” Shamir tried to calm herself, the long-bubbling spite leaking out. “Just...what the hell is going on with you, Catherine, that you were so desperate as to come to me?” 

Catherine took a seat on the small desk tucked into the corner of the room and breathed a heavy sigh. She explained what had happened the past few months. Her and Byleth becoming ‘training partners’ a few months back, Byleth inviting her to train with the Eagles, the incident with Miklan, the recovery afterward where they were almost inseparable, all up until she started talking about Joseph and Fredrique giving her a hard time on the road. 

“That...that’s where things get blurry.” Catherine paused, having felt like she’d been rambling for hours. 

“What do you mean, ‘blurry’?” Shamir’s concern made Catherine more nervous than anything else. 

“Well….I remember Joe made a comment about me missing…’my girl’, and I just remember getting pissed off and threatening to court martial him and Freddy if they didn’t shape up. I don’t know where that came from, I haven’t threatened a court martial in my entire career. But I just...everything after that feels foggy, like I had slammed a bottle of scotch but hadn’t processed enough to fully black out yet. Then...the next thing I know I’m laid out on the floor of the hall outside my quarters at god knows what hour of the night with my face feeling like it’s on fire, and Letty’s student, the Opera girl, is stood over me looking pissed off. I have no idea what happened. Byleth told me some of the things, bits and pieces, and it ain’t good.” she recounted the quotes that she’d been told, the words tasted bitter, rotten on her tongue. “It just...felt like I was asleep, in a dream and then just snapped out of it. I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Catherine felt her eyes stinging, and hated the amount of fear that bubbled up inside her. “I...I know we kind of drifted apart, and I get that this must be awkward, but just...was there ever any time you noticed me acting weird like that at all?” 

Shamir’s eyes were clearly telegraphing the conflicting emotions within her. The anger at the nerve Catherine had, coming to her for help in her relationship, the confusion at her comments about the end of their relationship, the fear at the idea that something could be seriously wrong with her friend, confusion if they ever really were friends. 

“Catherine...how do you remember our...ending.” Shamir asked. Catherine thought for a few seconds, longer than she should have needed to. 

“I...I mean we just kind of drifted apart ,like I said earlier. You started taking missions without me, and after a while we ended up just being, well, team mates and that’s it. I remember you being angry at me for something, but I can’t remember what. I just thought you’d...gotten tired of me.” Catherine explained, realizing just how many gaps there were in that memory. Why had she never questioned it before?

“Catherine…” Shamir rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers as she began speaking, the mess of emotions in her mind only growing more chaotic. “We...that’s not what happened.” 

Catherine’s stomach seemed to drop so far it may as well have hit the floor. She swallowed back her fear as she started to think she already had an idea, given what little she knew now, how this was going to go. 

“Then...then what? What actually happened?” Her voice cracked as she asked, and Shamir began toying with her gloves as she tried to think. She hated the thought that what she was going to say would drive Catherine deeper into agony, but some part of her wanted that, after what she had done to her, the torment this knight had put her through. Now however that vengeance seemed to turn bitter inside her as she wondered what if…

“You...you ran away, and when I tried to talk to you, you told me to go away. That was the nicest thing you said.” Shamir’s explanation was shallow, and Catherine needed more. 

“Shamir, please. I know this can’t be easy but I need to know everything, every detail.” 

“Ok...fine. Dredge it all back up and it’s not my fault if I slap you for old times sake.” Shamir pointed at her, accentuating the threat. 

“I have a sneaking suspicion I deserve worse.” Catherine almost chuckled, and she could hear the gust of air from Shamir's nostrils. 

“...It was about six months in. I don’t know how much is...blurry for you. But we had just gotten back from a mission to Brigid, shutting down some rogue knight squadron…” 

“Yeah, I remember that. I remember us getting back, and we went out for drinks to celebrate with the guys!” Catherine smiled a little bit, that was a good day. Shamir’s face said otherwise.

“Yeah...It was on the way back from that...we were both a little drunk, and we were walking back from the bar back to the barracks. You were nice and walked me to my door. Said you couldn’t come inside cus of some meeting with Rhea the next day. So…” Catherine let the archer’s pause hang in the air. She could tell something was not sitting well in her mind. “So I gave you a kiss goodnight...and when I said goodbye I let a word slip out that we’d managed to avoid that whole time…” Shamir looked down and laughed. It was a bitter, morbid sort of laugh. She looked back up and Catherine saw her cheeks streaked with tears. The urge to try and wipe them away rose from somewhere long abandoned in the pit of Catherine’s chest, but she was certain that this woman wanted nothing of the sort from her. Her mouth was pulled tight and flat, as if she hoped with it she could smash down the feelings she had raging in her mind. “I said I love you. That’s when it all happened. Where it all went wrong, now that I look back. You went all stiff, straight backed and wide eyed. But, It was your voice that gave away something was off. Your voice...it sounded so cold. As if I was some stranger you had never met before. I guess I should’ve known something was wrong. But I just thought I’d scared you off.” Shamir bit at the inside of her cheek. 

“I…” 

“I’m not done.” She cut Catherine off. The knight could see why Byleth would be so irritated by that. “After that, I gave you a few days, I figured you needed space. When you didn’t come back for a week, I got worried...then I found out you had picked up a mission without me. You were gone for nearly a week, some mission out at the locket of Fodlan for Rhea. I can’t remember. All I remember is when you got back I was fuming. I asked why the hell you’d leave me behind when we were partners. That’s not what partners do... “ 

“Shamir, I’m so …” 

“I’m. Not. Finished!” Shamir couldn’t swallow back all of the venom in her words, and her lips were now pulled into a tight scowl. “You said… you called me desperate. Said that you didn’t need me like I clearly needed you. How’d you put it… ‘considering the rather dismal fate your last ‘partner’ met while by your side, perhaps it’d be better for me to stay as distant as I can from you.’” Shamir let out a long, shuddering breath as Catherine sat in horror of her own words, so long after the fact. Shamir’s last ‘partner’, her husband, was one of the archers' few weak spots. It was something that’d taken months for her to be able to talk about with Catherine when they first became partners. Catherine would never have said something so cruel, and yet it seemed she already had. 

“What...what happened after?” 

“You disappeared, for weeks. It must have been over a month after I said... what I did before you finally came back to the team. When it happened...you just were back to your smiling, chipper self. As if it’d never happened. As if we had never happened. Or at least not the way we had. You know the most twisted part of it all?” She didn’t wait for a response. “After all those weeks without you, there was something, some sick part of me that felt happy to have you back and smiling, even with everything you had said. Maybe you were right after all. I really was desperate.” 

“Shamir, No please listen…” And for a third and final time, Catherine found herself cut off. 

“Get out. I, I can’t listen to you right now!” Shamir stood, pushing her towards the door. Catherine’s attempts at apologies ended on deaf ears and the door slammed in her face before she’d even finished the first sentence. She shuffled weakly up a few more halls and around a few more corners towards the door to her own room, but by the time she reached it she was a terrified, sobbing mess. She was barely holding herself together, collapsing down in the hallway outside of her room. She leant against the cold stone wall, tears streaming down her cheeks as she ran her hands through her hair, pulling at it as she tried to almost pull herself back to reality. 

If this was even reality. She felt as if she was lost in her own mind. Her memories were unreliable, her actions seemed not hers to decide. There was nothing she could trust, least of all herself.

This was hell. She was in hell. 

Jeralt rubbed the bridge of his nose as the creeping headache began to build. He was sat on a bench outside the administrative building of the academy, his mind pouring over the information he had. 

“Gold piece for your thoughts.” Manuela said, sitting on the bench beside him. There was a certain relaxed air to how she was sat. Her back was slouched as she looked off into the distance. “You ran out of the office so quickly yesterday I was worried.”

“My first thought is I’m going to kill that damned woman.” Jeralt muttered. 

“That seems like an unwise decision, professionally speaking.” Jeralt stood, groaning as he paced back and forth. 

“I’m well aware of that, Manuela. Don’t forget I was long past jaded with this job before you even started teaching here. But what am I supposed to do? One of my knights goes and starts sleeping with my daughter, and when I tell her not to fucking it up and hurt her, she does both! Goddess damnit!” Jeralt kicked at a rock on the ground, sending it flying as the energy seemed to drain from him, and the irate captain faded into a tired old father, trying to figure out how to protect his daughter. Manuela sighed and dusted off the front of her skirt, standing up and patting Jeralt on the shoulder. “Whatever is going on between those two, clearly they aren’t handling it well. Now I have to hear about it through one of Byleth’s students that she’s afraid she’s being abused.” 

“Your worry is understandable, Jeralt, but don’t sell your daughter so short. Having patched up some of the unfortunate souls who’ve gotten on her bad side, I can’t help but feel like something is missing here. Byleth doesn’t seem like the type to take abuse lying down.” Manuela assured. 

“That doesn't mean anything, Manuela. I’ve seen the most brilliant and powerful fighters in Fodlan be the targets of shit like that. It’s not like an enemy combatant, the emotional aspect is the most dangerous part. If anything that makes me more worried.” 

“Jeralt, I am not someone whom you need to lecture on that topic. I know better than most. But that’s not what I mean. Your daughter is strong in more ways than just physically, and you need to have some faith in her, and not risk your job killing her partner because of an overheard conversation. Talk to Catherine, talk to Byleth, and figure out what we’re missing.”

“I just...I knew I should have tried to put a stop to this the moment I caught wind of it. Byleth has no idea how to keep her emotions in check. Hell, up until this place, I was almost certain she didn’t even have them! It’s just too damned complicated, mixing work and romance.” 

“Then why didn’t you?” 

“They’re grown women, and so damned stubborn I knew they’d do whatever they damn well please no matter what I said even if Catherine is under my command as a knight.” 

“Obviously. But why didn’t you try? Why did you leave it be?” Manuela asked, hands on her hips. 

“I...She made my little girl smile. The first time I’ve ever seen Byleth smile, and it wasn’t at me, but at those two girls. I had to believe that...that meant something, didn’t I? But now...Manuela, yesterday I was sat in the woods watching her bawl louder than she ever did as a newborn, all because of that damned woman and her student.” Jeralt missed the slight look of surprise on Manuela’s face and continued on. “I just don’t know. I feel like I let things slide because I thought it would do her good and all I’ve done is let her down.” 

“It sounds to me like you’re more angry at yourself than Catherine. Don’t let your rage cloud your better judgement. Cut yourself some slack, find Catherine, and find out what the hell is going on. Ok, old man?” Jeralt laughed at the professor, shaking his head. 

“Fine, Manuela. I’ll do my best to not strangle her on sight. But I’m not an old man, not quite yet.” Manuela laughed and pat him on the shoulder again, leaning in just a bit to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Doors always open if you wanna put your money where your mouth is, old man.” Manuela shot him a wink as she turned to walk away. Jeralt chuckled and shook his head as he watched her leave. Goddess above, this school would be the death of him.

Edelgard let out a vicious war cry as she swung her sparring axe into the side of a Golden Deer student’s head, knocking the tall, muscular blonde man out cold and sending him to the ground with a heavy thud. A training arrow lodged into a tree behind her, and she looked up to see Claude, grinning from ear to ear as he lined up another shot. 

She narrowly avoided the hit and charged at Claude, but he reciprocated her dodge and managed to thwap her over the head with his bow. It was more insulting than effective, but it hurt nonetheless. 

“Not fast enough, Edelgard! You’ll have to try harder then that.” He taunted, dodging yet another strike as he stepped back. 

She swung again, and he easily dodged, taking another step back. Swing, avoid, step. It repeated more than a dozen times, each step accentuated by some kind of taunt. 

“Come now, Lady Hresvelg, you must be able to swing harder than that!” Claude chastised, laughing at her as he hit her with the bow yet again. 

Another taunt, another swing, another smack with the bow, another step. Had Edelgard not been using the battle as a vent for the unyielding rage that had accumulated in her over the past several weeks stuck with ‘Monica’, she may have noticed the pattern. 

As it stands however, she did not. When she telt the blunted tip of a training lance smash into her rib cage, it sent her flying. She landed with a dull thud and looked up to see Dimitri, lance at the ready, with an absolutely bloodthirsty look in his eyes. Claude had another arrow out, ready to fire, and was aiming right at her from the prince’s side. He’d lead her into a trap. 

The wood-gauntlet-clad fist that smashed into Claude’s jaw was, incidentally, a surprise to all three of the lords. As was when the bearer of said fist leapt from the woods to tackle Dimitri to the ground. 

Dimitri’s loyal right hand, Dedue, was already running to his lord’s aid, and Edelgard knew while her Professor may be strong, even she was likely to be challenged by the two of them and Claude’s craftyness. She pulled her axe from the dirt and ran to her Professor’s aid. 

Dedue threw Byleth off of Dimitri quickly enough, and she almost tripped Edelgard as she landed in her path. Edelgard extended her hand out, and Byleth took it without hesitation as she was helped up from the ground. 

“Thanks.” Blyeth said, brushing some of her hair out of her face. It had grown longer over the past few weeks, as she was tired of cutting it. 

“I could say the same to you. Your help distracting Claude was invaluable” Edelgard said with a smile. Byleth returned it in kind, if hers was a bit more subdued. It still gave Edelgard a flutter in her chest that she refused to acknowledge. She saw Byleth’s hand shoot out, grabbing her lapel, and was surprised as she felt her professor pushing her away, her grip staying strong as an arrow passed between them, just above Byleth’s arm. As soon as the arrow was gone, Byleth pulled Edelgard back where she had been and let go. 

“How about instead of thanks you help me deal with these three?” Byleth asked nodding towards Claude, Dimitri and Dedue, the latter two of whom were charging them as they spoke.

“Gladly.” With that, Edelgard and Byleth dropped into each of their fighting stances and readied themselves. Dimitri was charging at Edelgard, and Byleth was staring down Dedue as he ran towards her full-speed. Edelgard and her professor exchanged a quick glance, and a wordless nod before returning their gaze to the targets ahead. 

As the two men drew into range, Edelgard feinted away from the professor, causing Dimitri to adjust course, only for his target to move in the opposite direction and swing her axe into the side of Dedue’s head. As Dimitri tried to right himself, his target moving away as Dedue’s came a split second too early, he felt a crunch as a fist smashed into his ribcage. 

Byleth pulled her jab, not wanting to crush the kid’s chest entirely, and followed it with a similarly-restrained cross that still managed to send Dimitri stumbling into a nearby tree. She threw one last punch, sending the poor man’s head bouncing between her fist and the side of the trunk, and then finally the ground. She heard Edelgard grunt, and turned to see Dedue and her crossing axes. He had a clear advantage is his size, but Byleth was proud to say her student was holding her own. That, however, didn’t mean she couldn’t help. She moved forward towards the combatting duo, aiming to do exactly that. 

Edelgard saw her Professor running toward her, and smiled as she looked back to her opposing combatant. He went to swing at her, and she tried her best to use it to create an opening. Instead of swinging at Dedue, she swung her axe up and stepped back, the curve of both of their training axes jamming together, and while she knew she wouldn’t be able to use it to wrench the weapon from his hands, she had now halted his attack mid-swing, and created a gap between them. She just prayed it would be enough. 

It was. Byleth skittered to a stop between the two of them, crouched down low. When her footing was certain she moved as if leaping up and slammed her fist into the underside of Dedue’s jaw, sending the man’s head flying back as he was thrown an inch or so into the air by the strike. He was unconscious before he even met earth. 

The two women panted a bit, and Byleth could feel her heart thudding in her chest as she regained her breath. While she was used to it during the day to day activities, the heaviness of it as she fought and did other such activities was still something she needed to adjust to. She was startled from her thoughts when she heard Edelgard laughing. The sound was infectious. 

“Haha, what exactly is so funny, Miss Hresvelg?” Byleth asked, facing her student. 

“Oh, it’s not so much funny. Just...pleasant.” Edelgard said, gesturing around them. “What is that look for?” she asked, growing a bit self conscious at the strange gaze the professor aimed at her. Byleth responded by pointing to Dedue and then Dimitri. 

“I just worry I may need to submit you for a psych eval if you consider this actually pleasant.” Byleth said, chuckling. Edelgard could only roll her eyes. 

“Oh, not that you ass.” Edelgard groaned, stepping closer and shoving her professor, playfully of course. “Just... fighting alongside you. It’s been a while.” 

“Well, not much longer than our usual gap between missions.” Byleth remarked, her hands settling on her hips. 

“Still...It’s just nice.” Edelgard didn’t dare hazard to say she was missing the Professor more than simply fighting alongside her. 

“I found it fun as well. I will be honest, I have worried you were growing rusty, given how you seem to be spending most of your time during and outside of class focused on Monica.” 

“Don’t worry, Professor. I’m not dull just yet. I’ve just...been busy trying to help ensure she is able to pass the graduation exam.” Edelgard hated lying to Byleth, but lying was akin to breathing for her these days. She lied to her classmates, her Professor, her ‘allies’ in Those Who Slither. Even to Hubert when need be. 

“I’m glad you’re so concerned for your comrade. But I will admit I’ve...missed...you, these past few weeks.” Where exactly that had come from, Byleth was unsure. She was worried by the way Edelgard seemed to go so red. Had she said something wrong. Byleth felt as if she were forgetting something, but was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing together. Should she step back? Would that be rude of her? 

“Oh…” Edelgard looked down and felt her face flush as she heard her Professor’s confession, saying so easily what she had just feared hinting too much at. 

She’d missed her? The Professor had missed her?! What in the world did that mean? Why did she feel so agitated by it? All of a sudden it came crashing back to her how terrible she felt, having completely disappeared, even if she knew it was not of her own choice. 

“I...I have missed you too, Professor. It’s...it’s been rather dull as of late without our weekly tea.” Edelgard’s throat suddenly felt very dry. She swallowed, moving some hair from her own face as she looked up to see Byleth looking down at her. Had she always been this much taller? She could tell she was slouching, and the gap between them seemed so small, but still the absolute size of the woman was something Edelgard had never really quite realized. 

What really caught her attention was the smile in the corner of the professor’s mouth. It wasn’t a smirk, it was kinder than that. But it was small, and yet so very warm. Byleth looked away for a second and looked back at her. She looked intent to say something, but it was as if her words were caught in her throat like fish in a net. 

Edelgard rested her hand just a bit on Byleth, right at the area where it was blurry whether it was her shoulder or her chest, and leaned forward, her eyes closing just a bit. She felt herself craning her neck to try and bridge the gap between them. 

There was a shift in Byleth’s posture, and Edelgard expected her to pull away, as much as she expected anything seeing as how she was running more on instinct than anything else, but to her surprise it felt as if she was leaning down towards her. 

It was right around then that Byleth, who had been leaning down without even really noticing it, was hit in the temple with the dulled point of a training arrow. Her head snapped to the side, and she dropped like a sack of potatoes. 

Edelgard spun like a top, looking to see Claude stood over a now-unconscious Caspar, and was readying another arrow. He had seemed to have moved, and Edelgard had a sneaking suspicion that Caspar had been the distraction that allowed their conversation to go on for as long as it had. 

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” Claude asked, his devilish grin spread especially wide as Edelgard charged him, axe in hand. Byleth managed to get back to her feet, and followed closely behind. She had a splitting headache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No big end note today. Just wanna pop in and say I know y'all are gonna start hating me if I keep up the kiss interuptions, so trust me when i say this is the last one, but coming up y'all'll have whole NEW reasons to hate me! :D


	16. Chapter 16: Drunken Sailor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine tries to pull herself together as Joseph and Fredrique try and fail to hide her from an extremely pissed off Captain. Dorothea makes Mercedes blush, Byleth and her father discuss their newest assignment back in their old home town, Ashe rides Seteth, Edelgard is a useless lesbian and Kronya is a bitch. What more could you possibly want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, later update than usual tonight, cus over the weekend I was part of a group putting together a protest. Shout out to 
> 
> As always, thanks to all my rad homies and comrades who helped me put this together. I'll give my usual plug to The Unqualified 1 (She's anything but) https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1/pseuds/The_Unqualified1  
> And Model Omega for helping proofread today's update through my killer migraine.   
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModelOmega/pseuds/ModelOmega
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this week’s chapter, and I’ll see y’all next week! Please comment! lemme hear your theories! What the hell is going on?! I love y’all’s feedback and it always warms my heart to talk shop.
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage

“Cat! Come on, move your ass!” There was a hand under her arm, then a second much larger one under the other. 

“What…” Catherine’s senses started to return to normal as she was hefted up, and she saw two of her men carrying her up the halls of the barracks. “Joseph? Fredrique? What...what the hell are you doing?” 

“Saving your ass, what does it look like?” Fredrique’s voice was a harsh whisper. Joe looked around a corner, and seeing no one he signalled to Fredrique for the three to move down that segment of hallway. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Catherine asked. 

“We’re talking about the Captain being fuming pissed at you. I don’t know what you did to piss him off, Catherine, but missy you fucked up big time.” Joseph whispered. “We’re gonna stash you in our quarters for a few hours, see if things calm down, and come up with a good excuse for where you were. Hopefully a little time will help the old man calm down and we can talk this all out.” Joseph was more thinking aloud by that point. 

“You calling someone old? That’s rich.” Fredrique said, throwing open the door to their quarters as they slid in, closing and locking it behind them. 

“Hey, I may be old but Jeralt was captain of the guard back when I was a student here in the Academy.” Joseph pointed a finger at Fredrique, taunting the smaller redhead. 

“Shut up!” Catherine clutched at the sides of her head. She felt like her mind was breaking in two, the pain was so bad. 

“You good, Cat?” Joe asked. 

“No...no i’m not.” The most intense part of the headache passed, and as Catherine replied she sat onto one of the two beds occupying the room, her elbows resting on her knees. The mattress was uncomfortable, stiff, as if it hadn’t been slept on in years. 

“You want to talk about it?” Joe asked, sliding one of the two footlockers that sat at the end of the other bed over so he could sit in front of her. 

“I...I don’t know, man.” Catherine ran her hands through her hair, but that didn’t help like it usually did. As she spoke on her words grew less and less intelligible underneath her tears. “I...I talked to Shamir, and she told me about everything that happened last year, and I just can’t believe it man. Why would I say those things? I didn’t think that! I ain’t like that! Shamir’s a good fighter, she’s a good woman, she didn’t need me for shit. I knew her last partner wasn’t her fault! I knew man! I would’ve never said that shit!” She looked up from the spot on the floor she had been staring at as she rambled, looking between the two men. “Y...you guys know me, right? I’m not like that! I don’t do that shit!” Catherine buried her face in her hands, and felt the leather of her gloves digging into the already raw flesh of her cheeks.

“Catherine, did you get hit in the head or something? What in the hell are you talking about?” Fredrique asked, looking as if she had lost all sense. In all honesty, she likely had. “What do you mean Shamir told you about ‘what happened last year’? Do you mean your split?” 

“Cat, do you know why Jeralt is after you?” Joe asked. She nodded weakly. 

“I think...I think I have a good idea.” Catherine almost laughed. 

“....Well?!” Fredrique was beyond done with this dancing around the point. He fucking hated dancing. 

“I… I was a bitch to Letty, Byleth, Professor Eisner.” Catherine had to correct herself twice as she saw a bit of confusion on both men’s faces. “I totally vanished, and when she came to see me apparently I said some terrible shit. He must have found out.” Joseph sighed and shook his head. 

“Fucking hell, Catherine. Are you insane? What the fuck were you thinking!?” Fredrique asked. Joe was about to tell him to shut up when he saw a flash of cream colored fabric and blonde hair. Before he knew what was what, Catherine had her hands grasping at Freddy’s shirt, practically strangling him as she pinned him to the wall. 

“Are you not hearing me!? I wasn’t!” She screamed in his face, spit flying from her mouth and spattering against it. She shook her head a bit, looking at her hands and then Fredrique, letting him go and backing away slowly, horror in her eyes. “I...I’m sorry…” Joseph saw Catherine’s usually steady hands shaking like leaves. 

“Cat, come on.” Joseph stepped up, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Sit down. You’re ok, we’re going to get this figured out. What do you mean you weren’t thinking? Were you drunk?” She’d never been a mean drunk, quite the opposite in fact. But she wasn’t really making sense, nothing had as of late, so anything was possible. 

“No….Goddess, no. You know I’m not like that, man!” Catherine’s voice implied more desperation than certainty. “...I don’t think I am?” She grabbed at her head again, the headache coming back as she tried to remember the night before last. It felt like pulling a jagged shard of stained glass from the inside of her mind. Joseph tried to help her stay upright as she clutched her head. Had he not been so focused on helping her stand, then he might have heard the thudding footsteps before they were in front of the door. 

However by the time he realized something was wrong, the door knob was jiggling, and as he moved to try and find a way to hide Catherine, the door seemed to shift back and forth, before finally swinging in like an axe blade. Jeralt Eisner, their Captain and commanding officer, stood in the doorway with rage written across his face like Joseph had never seen before. 

Joseph moved , trying to stand between his superior and the blonde woman who was, as far as he could tell, too focused on her head to realize how much worse the situation had gotten. 

“Sir Joseph, stand aside. This doesn’t concern you.” Jeralt ordered. Joe didn’t move. 

“The hell it doesn’t, sir.”

“Joe.” Catherine said weakly, nudging him to the side. The old knight looked to see one of Catherine’s eyes closed and the other half open, as if the light hurt her. “Don’t stick your neck out and get it slit for my sake.”

“You sure, Cat?” Joseph asked, worry evident in the way his creased, aged face grew even more scrunched together. 

“Yeah. You two go. Whatever beating the Captain has in store for me, I’m sure I deserve it.” Catherine stood up as straight as she could, still holding a hand to the side of her head. Jeralt took a step forward, and there was a brief moment where he and Joseph stared each other down.

Fredrique was worried, Joe not being one to give in lightly, but he was able to breathe easily when he finally stepped aside. Jeralt shook his head slowly, there was almost a kind of understanding between the two of them, at least Jeralt thought there was. Joseph may not have been Catherine’s father, but he was ready to protect her as if she were his blood without a moment of hesitation. Jeralt walked forward, standing barely a few inches from the bleary-eyed blonde, and already he could tell something was truly wrong in the shaking that racked her body as she stood. 

“I’m not going to beat you, you jackass.” Jeralt said, grabing a fistfull of her tunic and pulling her close, practically lifting her off the ground as he glared her down. “But, you better start talking. What in the hell is wrong with you!?” He shook her like she weighed nothing, his voice growing more akin to a growl. “I told you not to hurt my daughter, and now I have to find out from some little girl in her class that you and her are fighting?! In the middle of the damned barracks no less!? What in the hell was going through your head?!” Jeralt shook her again, and while he knew he was getting a bit more aggressive and personal than was proper for his station and this situation, this woman had been the one to decide to forgo professional separation and start fraternizing with his little girl. 

Catherine’s head hung limply down, and Jeralt couldn’t see her face through the curtain of thick hair. He heard a noise that he could’ve sworn was a laugh, and saw the woman in his grasp look up at him, only lifting her head as high as she absolutely needed too. Exhaustion was written across her face like a map to the gates of hell itself. 

“I don’t know...” Catherine muttered, too tired to try and fight. For all she knew, this wasn’t even real. She could forget all about it, or find out later that she was raving madly at her men and her Captain. 

Jeralt had no idea how to respond, this was nothing like how he’d expected this to go. The echoing of the halls had made it easy for him to hear her screaming in rage as he was walking through the barracks. He had been going to check her quarters again, but that had set him on edge. He had worried that she might try to fight, that perhaps that Dorothea girl was right and something worse than just mean spirited arguments had been going on. But now this woman, this soldier, this battle-hardened warrior, was hanging in his hands like a scared dog, and all he could think was he’d let his emotions get the better of him and made the whole situation worse. Jeralt kept his grip on Catherine, but turned to look to Joseph. The man’s eyes said everything, there was something big missing. Jeralt felt a bit like an ass as he turned back to Catherine and saw her clutching at her head again, eyes clenched shut. 

“Catherine...what is going on?” Jeralt let her down, just a bit, so she was planted firmly on her feet. He would have let her go completely, but he felt that, if he had, she’d have collapsed to the ground. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, tears slowly spilling down her face. 

“I...I don’t know, Sir...and I’m scared…” That hit all three of the men in the room like a ton of bricks. Catherine wasn’t a person who got scared. Catherine was a woman who spit in the eye of the grim reaper for the sake of a laugh. She threw herself into the heat of battle without hesitation. Jeralt had seen her as one of his best, and yet here she was, sobbing in front of him, looking like a deer with an arrow in her side. 

Joseph and Fredrique had seen Catherine scared, they’d seen her crack before. The last time being at the battle against Miklan after the professor had been injured, but for her to say it, to give it a name and admit it, was more terrifying than anything. 

A matter of hours later, the four of them were in Jeralt’s office, door closed and locked tight. They had had to wait a bit, to allow Catherine time to gain some composure before they could walk there from the barracks, but Jeralt trusted this room much more than he trusted the echoey, thin-walled halls of the barracks. Catherine sat in a chair across from Jeralt, the same spot she had sat in not two months prior when he’d finally verified that his suspicions were correct. She seemed so much smaller now, shoulders slouched, leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. 

She had just finished explaining everything. What had happened between her and Byleth, or rather what Byleth had told her had happened between the two of them the night before last, and even then she said her memories of what she had been told were starting to fade as well. Catherine repeated what Shamir had told her, as well as her own recollection of events. She said she had no memory of ever taking a mission without the woman, and Jeralt also couldn’t seem to find any record of a mission in that timeframe that was marked as completed by Catherine alone. 

“I don’t get it! I swear, I remember being at the monastery the whole time! I even remember going out and grabbing food with Joe.” She turned to the man. “I remember us going out to that dingy old tavern in town, outside the Market. You insisted on splitting a bottle of whiskey, we got shitfaced and I had a hangover for three days!” Joe only returned the look with confusion, his arm wrapped around Fredrique’s shoulder. 

“Cat, I don’t drink whiskey. I’m allergic to rye and barley, remember?” Joseph pointed out. Catherine shook her head, looking down and she realized she couldn’t remember a single other time he’d done so. He’d always been the type to drink wine when they went out. She tried to remember more about that night, but the headache came back, and she couldn’t take it. 

“What’s happening to me?” Catherine asked, looking up at her Captain as if he would have all the answers. Jeralt was standing on the other side of his desk, hands flat against the counter on either side as he looked down over the half-dozen or so files splayed out. 

“I don’t know, kid.” Jeralt said, reaching up and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He heard Catherine chuckle, and looked up to see her looking at him with the slightest hint of a smile. “What’s so funny?” 

“N...nothing sir. Just dejavu.” Catherine looked away, running her hands through her hair, trying to calm herself down. 

They continued pouring over the details of Catherine’s memory, or lack-there-of, but all they found were more questions, more gaps, more memories that they either couldn’t verify or were mostly right but seemed to be missing details or wrong somehow. But the biggest thing that troubled Jeralt was how Catherine had managed to go several weeks without being assigned a mission. The way the filing worked, when a team was out on a job, Jeralt would hand that team's file off to lord Seteth or whichever Lord was the overseeing faculty on said mission. It ensured he didn’t assign one team two missions. However, he had no memory of giving Catherine’s folder to Seteth, and when checked for, it was curiously absent, alongside his daughter’s. 

After several hours of pouring over every detail, Catherine managed to calm down. It felt less and less like she was losing her mind, but instead was now simply another piece in some sinister puzzle at play around her. Joseph and Fredrique had fallen asleep, the former sat up on one of the three cushions of a small couch tucked away in the corner of the room, while the latter was snoring quietly, sprawled across the other two cushions with his head laying in Joseph’s lap.

As the sun started to set, they saw a small cloud of dust gathering on the horizon, right where the trail leading to the front gate would be. Jeralt heaved a heavy sigh as he looked out the window, a faint smile finding its way to his lips. 

“Looks like the battle was a quick one this year.” He said, looking down at the even larger pile of folders, records, and notes. 

“Bet you I know who won.” Catherine muttered from her chair, chuckling as the day weighed heavily on her eyelids. That actually got a laugh from Jeralt, and Catherine felt good about that. 

“I’m no gambling man, and a bet that shitty isn’t likely to change that any time soon.” Jeralt joked. Before closing the assembled folders Jeralt retrieved a fresh one, adding to it his notes and records on the subject. He set those files in another drawer, one that held the file of his other ongoing investigation, the mysterious group which had seemed to be stalking the school for several months now. He slammed the drawer closed. This sent the two men on his couch shooting up in their seats. 

“I think that’s enough for one day. I’ll take some time to review in a day or two, see if I can find anything new, and we’ll go from there. Joseph, Fredrique, get out.” The last point was not up for debate, and the two men stood and looked to Catherine, who suddenly felt very tense, but nodded for the two of them to go along. She knew she wasn’t likely getting out of this no matter what. They left, and after a long moment of silence Jeralt walked over to Catherine, resting his hand on her shoulder. “You look like hell, let’s take a walk. Some fresh air could do you good before you see Byleth. ” Jeralt patted her shoulder, and moved for the door. Catherine was confused, as she had expected some sort of ass chewing, but the day wasn’t over just yet. 

Together they walked out of the administrative building, taking the long winding route around the school as they spoke. 

“What’s your gut telling you about all this, sir?” Catherine asked, hating the uneasy silence between them, Jeralt shook his head and stopped, looking out over the fishing pond. 

“Well, my first instinct is split. The first instinct I have is that you’re full of shit, and this whole deal is you just digging yourself deeper and deeper to try and get out of getting your ass kicked by your girlfriends dad.” Catherine was going to interject, but didn’t think now was the best time to play particular about what she and Byleth were. Hell, she didn’t even know what they really were anymore. “However, the part of me I think is right says that you somehow managed to get caught up in something much bigger than yourself, and either it’s been messing with your head, or everyone else’s.” 

“For what little it probably counts, I don’t think I'm creative enough to come up with this level of bullshit, sir.” Jeralt looked at her for a minute, his eyes blank until he began laughing. 

“You know what, Catherine, I don’t think so either.” Jeralt heaved in a deep breath of the cool night air, the sun long gone. Cheers could be heard from the dining hall as they stood there. “Just know that we’ll figure out what’s going on. Ok?” 

“I know we will, sir. I just don’t want Letty getting caught up in all of it.” Catherine lamented. The two had stopped walking, and both were looking at the doors to the dining hall from quite a ways away, but Catherine had one question for the Captain. “‘Something bigger’, what do you mean by that??” 

Jeralt shook his head. “I have an idea, but nothing solid. I’ve been investigating the strange occurrences around campus, Flayn and all that, and the group that appears to be behind them, and I just can’t shake the feeling that they’re related. I think I’ve got a lead, so hopefully if that pulls through, I can get you more answers, but I still just don’t see where you would fit into things yet.” 

“Wait, I thought Morice and his team were in charge of that investigation?” Catherine asked. 

“They were, until the entire crew turned up dead.” Jeralt’s deadpan delivery set Catherine on edge. 

“Shit…” 

“Yeah, It wasn’t pretty. The way it looked, there were five distinct blade marks, which means at least three assailants. They must have been fast, too. Morice and his team’s weapons weren’t even out of their scabbards. But besides that, we got nothing.” 

“One more damned mystery to throw onto the fire.” Catherine muttered. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself...and Catherine?” 

“Yes, sir?” she asked, looking over. His voice had grown so suddenly somber. His face matched. 

“I’m not talking to you as your captain, I’m talking to you as Byleth’s father…” He sighed, clearly uncomfortable. “If something...happens to me, like what happened to Morice’s team, please, look after her. Byleth, I mean.” 

“Yeah, I… I knew what you meant. And of course, Jeralt. But don’t talk like that, you’re old but I’m not going to let you keel over that easily. I gotta at least beat you once in a sparring match before you go.” Catherine joked, shoving Jeralt’s shoulder. 

“Don’t push it.” 

“Yes, sir.” Catherine said, formally. 

“Come on, let’s get some food.”

The night ended well. Catherine was greeted to roukous cheers when the Eagles saw her and Jeralt approaching, along with a soft smile from Byleth. Catherine congratulated them on their victory, and the night dragged on for several more hours as they chanted, cheered and celebrated. Jeralt at one point taught the class an old sea shanty he’d learned from a former sailor in the Brigade, and the dining hall was full of poorly sung, out of tune officers in training belting it out at the top of their lungs. Poor Dorothea looked as if she were in hell itself. 

Catherine asked about the bruising around Byleth’s ear and temple, and was given some quick reply about having been blindsided by the Golden Deer during the battle. Dorothea seemed to giggle at this, but looked away when Catherine tried to give her an inquisitive look. She did notice that things seemed a bit tense between Byleth and Edelgard, but that seemed to be every other week at this point. She could guess what exactly they were so tense about. She wasn’t blind, and had caught Edelgard staring at Byleth between rounds of sparring enough times to put two and two together. She really did wish they’d just talk and figure their shit out, or screw and get it over with at this point. The will-they-won’t-they shit was getting to such ridiculous levels that it was almost funny. 

Catherine didn’t resent the girl for it. She knew how attractive Byleth was, and being territorial wasn’t exactly her style, even if she did care very much about Letty. She knew there was an easier way to say that, one word she could say, but for some reason something seemed to make it impossible for her to say it, or even think it, it felt like. She was shaken from her thoughts by Ashe, who sat in the seat next to her. Catherine looked and saw the student fidgeting a bit awkwardly, seemingly prodded along by an orange haired girl nearby. 

“I… I need to talk to you. After the meal. If that’s ok.” Leonie smashed her elbow into Ashe’s ribs, even Catherine noticed it. “I… just talk to me after everyone leaves.” 

“Uhh, Ok. Yeah, just hang back and we can chat after the food.” Catherine said, eyeing up the rather strange duo. Was anyone in this damned class normal?

Byleth took a bite from the massive platter of meat in front of her when she heard a familiar, cheery voice from nearby. 

“Professor!” Flayn called, scampering over from the Blue Lions’ table with a tall blonde woman in two. Flayn threw her arms around Byleth’s neck without even a moment’s hesitation, and for a moment Byleth simply went rigid. She hadn’t realized her and Flayn were that close, but apparently they were, she guessed. Finally Flayn stood back, smiling from ear to ear, a large bruise visible on her cheek from the battle. “Congratulations on your victory! It was wonderful getting to fight against your class today!” Mercedes smiled as well, waving, a bit awkwardly, from behind Flayn. 

“T, thank you, Flayn. It was good to see how your joining the blue lions this last month has already helped you grow.” Byleth replied. “Miss Mercedes.” Byleth acknowledged the taller woman with a nod. 

“Hello professor. You student’s really were formidable opponents today.” Mercedes complimented, hands clasped together in front of her. 

“What up, girls, just come over here to brown nose, or were you wanting to join us here for dinner?” Catherine asked through a mouth full of steak, which made Mercedes a bit concerned, but Flayn absolutely lit up. 

“Can we?” Flayn asked. Byleth shrugged, why in the hell not?

“Go right ahead.” Byleth said, gesturing to a few unoccupied chairs. The two girls sat beside each other, quickly joining in with the others as they bantered back and forth. 

“So, Mercedes, I don’t see you around the campus too often, what brought you over here?” Dorothea asked, only with the most sincere of intentions, of course. Flayn, however, spoke up before Mercedes could. 

“ Oh! Mercy has been helping me adjust to life here as a student. My first few days were, well, rather chaotic and she showed me how to navigate classes and course work. She’s been really wonderful in helping me with my studies with healing magic as well. I have grown rather rusty, and it’s been wonderful to have Mercy’s help!” 

“Oh, wow, ‘Mercy’ that really is so very sweet of you.” Dorothea commented, grinning evilly as she noted the slightest creeping of red on the girl’s cheeks. Goddess above, between what Claude had told her and this? If she wasn’t having to listen to Caspar, Ferdinand, and Leonie’s terrible rendition of “Drunken Sailor” this would be heaven. 

It was well after Jeralt and Catherine had walked into the dining hall that ‘Monica’ stepped out of the shadows, licking her lips hungrily with a tongue that was much too long.

So, the old bastard had a lead on them, did he? She would have to pass that along to Thales, and see how she was to rectify it. That would show the damned girl not to go threatening those above her station. It was such a shame they needed her, as Kronya so very much desired to teach her that lesson personally. 

That next sunday, Ashe sighed to herself as she tugged at the collar of her uniform, the heavy cotton of the mens jacket scratching at the damp, irritated skin around her neck. The weather wasn’t why she was sweating, it was in fact rather frigid, which was not very surprising considering the time of year. What was making her sweat was the stress building in her as she walked closer and closer to the training field of the Black Eagles. 

As she approached, Ashe saw the tall blonde figure she was dreading waiting for her beside one of the meanest looking Wyverns she had ever seen in her life. Why in the name of the goddess had she done this? 

Oh, that’s right, because Leonie had bullied her into it. She had spent hours harassing her to speak to Catherine ever since she’d heard about the offer Catherine had made to Edelgard and her the night before the tower. Who in the world had even told her?

‘How could you forget an offer like that?!’ she’d asked. She went on to talk about how much trouble Ashe had been having sticking to her Wyvern in training, as if she wasn’t dealing with the bruises and sore muscles from those falls every afternoon already and needed to have humiliation thrown on top of it. What did she even know? She could barely hold her bow while on horseback, let alone fire it accurately. 

Ashe took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She knew it wasn’t Leonie she was upset at. Leonie was just trying to be a good friend, to help her take an opportunity to improve her skills where she was sorely lacking. She was always trying to be a good friend to Ashe. 

It was honestly kind of bewildering how much Leonie did to try and help her, even in her own little ways. On Ashe’s bad days, where the grief from Lonato was just too much, Leonie would bring Ashe her notes from the day’s lecture and let her copy them, even explaining some when Ashe couldn’t quite understand. 

She chuckled a bit as she remembered the first time it had happened, when she’d accidentally flipped past the last page of notes for that day and saw the notes from the lecture before. Those notes seemed to be of significantly lower quality, in fact most of the page seemed dominated by doodles. There was one that was clearly of Petra, the long braids were a dead giveaway. Another had long curling hair with a hat placed at a jaunty angle, of course, it was Dorothea. There was one other thing Ashe noticed before Leonie slammed the notebook shut and took it back. It was a doodle of her, of Ashe, that seemed to have much more detail than the rest. What really stuck out to Ashe was the mixture of details. She had been looking away, as if paying attention to the lecture, making it seem like Leonie had just drawn her how she was at that moment, but the difference was in her clothing. The uniform jacket was slightly undone, and the collar of what appeared to be a floral patterned shirt was sticking out of it. 

They had both pretty quickly made some mumbled excuse for needing to end that session, and had either thought to actually look at the other person; they may have noticed that their faces were both a pretty similar shade of red. Then again, they were at a military officers academy, not an academy for emotional maturity and tact. 

“Hey, kid, you good?” 

Ashe came plummeting back to solid ground from the lofty heights of her absentminded pondering, to see she was standing in front of Catherine.

“Yeah, just lost in thought, I guess.” Ashe mumbled, earning a weak chuckle from Catherine. Even Ashe could tell it was forced. 

“No problem, just wanted to make sure you had your head in the game for today.” Catherine gestured to the Wyvern, and Ashe swore the thing sniffed as if sizing up it’s next meal. 

“Wouldn’t make much sense for me to ask you to do this just to show up not ready to try, would it?” 

“Kid, I’ll be honest, so little about my life lately has made sense that I’ve learned to not take anything for granted. You asked me to help train you, so I’m here. Are you ready to do this?” Ashe nodded. “Wonderful. This is Seteth.” She said patting the wyvern, who seemed to nuzzle into her hand. “She’s a big, strong, nasty bitch of a Wyvern who some dumb punk squire thought it’d be funny to name after Lady Rhea’s right hand man. She’ll be your training partner for today’s lesson. Now, you two get friendly.” Catherine stepped away, gesturing for Ashe to approach the beast. 

Ashe took a hesitant step forward, offering a hand as she looked into the slit-pupiled eyes of the massive scaled beast. It must have been twice the size of the Wyverns Byleth had them training on, and it looked as if it were ready to eat her alive at any moment. Seteth sniffed at the limb, before clasping her mouth around Ashe’s wrist, making the student scream in terror. 

Catherine sighed as she knew it was going to be a very long day before moving the pry the Wyvern’s mouth off of the screaming student’s wrist. She knew Seteth wouldn’t hurt Ashe, this was just how she played, but goddess she could not stand the screaming. 

Jeralt heard a knock at the entrance to his office, and quickly slid the pile of papers and folders he was examining into his desk drawer, loose and unsorted. The door opened before he even said to enter, and Lord Seteth stepped into his office clutching a small pile of documents. Assignment sheets, wonderful. 

“Sir Eisner.” Seteth greeted, dropping the papers onto the desk. “We have need of a team to travel to Remire Village and address the reports of a strange illness that seems to be coming in from the area. Please assign it to one of the classes, and ensure it is handled properly.” 

“Will do, Lord Seteth.” Jeralt affirmed, taking a moment to double check the available team files. “It appears the Deer are heading out on patrol the day after tomorrow, while the Blue Lions are already preparing to battle some beasts in the forests up north, so I’ll assign the Eagles and personally accompany them to ensure this matter is handled. Remire was my brigade’s home for several years, I would like to personally ensure the village is protected.” Seteth nodded, a bit disgruntled by the mention of the Black Eagles, but when Jeralt handed him the large folder inscribed with the Eagle’s emblem, he took it and put it under his arm none-the-less. 

“Well enough. I shall trust you to ensure it is addressed properly.” With that, Seteth turned to leave, but Jeralt had something more weighing on his mind. 

“Lord Seteth, if you have a moment, I had a question about something related.” Jeralt asked pointedly, stopping the green haired man in his tracks. Seteth turned slowly and faced Jeralt again. 

“Yes, Sir Eisner?” 

“I seem to be missing a file for one team under my command. Team Charon, under Catherine, has been back from a mission for almost a month now, and they’ve been completely without work as I was never given their assignment folder back. Would you be aware of where that folder has gone?” Seteth looked so perplexed that Jeralt knew the answer wasn’t going to help. 

“Sir Eisner, Catherine Charon and her team have been on assignment in Brigid for almost three weeks. They aren’t slated to return for another week.” Seteth could not believe that the captain would forget such an important assignment, especially given the fact his daughter and Sir Catherine had seemed rather chummy.

“...Thank you, lord Seteth. I apologize, I must simply be growing forgetful in my old age.” Jeralth said, earning a small chuckle from the Lord. 

“See that it does not happen again, Sir Eisner. I would hate to see your career on such rocky ground as your daughters. But, I would not call yourself old just yet, you’ve got another few centuries before that sets in.” Seteth taunted as he walked away. Humans were such fragile creatures. 

Jeralt sighed and leaned back in his chair, a headache forming in the center of his forehead. Whatever was happening, Seteth was as much of a pawn as any of them. That did not bode well. 

Ashe didn’t even have the energy to scream again as she hit the ground with a dull thud for what must have been the thousandth time that morning. The sun was barely to the top of the sky, so it couldn’t be past noon, and yet every inch of her body ached from the repeated collision with the earth. Why had she decided to waste her sunday on this? She could be sparring with Leonie, or talking to Bernadetta assuming she wasn’t latched onto Petra and Dorothea. But no, she was instead being thrown around like a ragdoll by a scaled-hide beast while a woman who had all but killed her brother watched and criticized. Why had she let Leonie talk her into this? At this point she would rather fail her Certification exam again. 

Seteth stamped over to her, the rush of air from her nostrils rustling Ashe’s hair as the Wyvern’s long forked tongue lapped at her face. Ashe swatted her away with a grunt of annoyance, but Seteth simply backed away and lunged back forward, lapping at her bruised face like a playful puppy. Ashe couldn’t help but laugh after a few seconds of the onslaught, and instead took to petting the Wyvern’s neck. A noise that could almost be called a purr echoed through it’s throat, and a few minutes later, Seteth backed away to allow Ashe up. 

She saw Catherine offering a hand, the look on her face clearly showing she felt about as awkward about this whole ordeal as Ashe did. But Ashe didn’t care, and swatted the hand away. 

“I’m fine.” Ashe muttered, standing up and dusting off her uniform. Catherine looked away and sighed. 

“Listen, I know I’m not exactly as great an instructor as Byleth, but I can tell you aren’t listening to me when I speak. I’ve told you six times now, grasp with your knees, stabilize with your ankles, and yet you continue to try holding on with your ankles and hands. How do you expect to fight like that, even if you could stay on?” Ashe scoffed. 

“ I am trying my best. You’re the one who decided it was wise to put a new rider on the back of this absolute monster!” Ashe gestured towards Seteth, who was standing right behind her. The wyvern looked at Ashe, confused, before licking her face again. Catherine chuckled. 

“Yeah, she is a real feral beast.” Catherine said, hands on her hips. “If you are going to ignore everything I say, why did you even ask for my help? Edelgard seems to have caught on fine. Ask her.” 

“I didn’t even want to! It was Leonie’s idea in the first place!” Ashe yelled, stepping closer as if trying to intimidate, but all it did was show exactly how much shorter she was than Catherine. 

“Oh, so you just do whatever your girlfriend tells you to do, huh?” Catherine shot back, knowing it was probably not the smartest decision to get into a screaming match with a student, but at this point it was just nice to have a vent for the awkward tension that had sat on the training field all morning. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Ashe pointed out, pushing Catherine.

“Well doesn’t that just make it even sadder.” Catherine said, smacking Ashe’s hands away. 

“You’re one to talk! Isn’t that exactly what you did when you betrayed my brother?” With that, Ashe charged forward, shoving her hands into Catherine’s stomach and pushing her to the ground. Had Ashe’s words not already hit Catherine like a ton of bricks, , she likely wouldn’t even have budged. But it’s amazing how easy it is to knock someone over when they are completely dumbstruck. 

She hit the ground with a heavy thud, much like Ashe had a hundred times before, only this time accompanied by the clang armor. Ashe stood over her, panting angrily, tears stinging her eyes as she tried to hold her composure. She wouldn’t let this woman see her as some weakling, but Catherine just looked up, shame, anger and doubt ringing through her mind. 

“Don’t just lay there, get up! Say something, damnit!” Ashe yelled, the rage in her heart feeling as if it might cook her from the inside. She hadn’t realized how much hatred she had held in her until that moment, when it all seemed to be pouring out of her. 

“I... What do you want me to say, Ashe?”

“Something! Anything! Don’t just sit there and gawk at me, you coward!” Catherine stood hurriedly, pushing off of the dirt and looking down at Ashe. 

“Fine! What do you want from me Ashe? An apology? That won’t bring Cristophe back. Do you want me to say I regret what I did? I don’t! I was doing my job. I am a knight of Serios, I am sworn to protect Lady Rhea, and Christophe let himself be dragged into a scheme to kill her. I did what I thought was right! There, are you happy?” 

“No. You still don’t get it! How could you betray a friend so easily? Turn him over to the hangman’s gallows without even a second thought when he saved you!” 

“You sound just like Lonato. Do you even know what Cristophe did to save me?” Catherine asked. Her first few words left Ashe in a shocked stupor, but only for a moment. 

“Do you?” Ashe spat back, Catherine grit her teeth as she looked away. “Did you ever even bother to try and find out?” 

“I did” Catherine whispered weakly, collapsing back, sitting on the now-slumbering Wyvern. “I did.” Ashe stared at her for several silent minutes. 

“Well?!” 

“He, when my class was preparing for graduation, we were raided by bandits. They killed almost everyone in my class. I was the first to go down, but they only knocked me out. My lamp fell, and it broke and...Cristophe pulled me from the fire. He helped me get back to the Monastery…” Catherine explained. She was so very tired of crying. She felt as if she’d done enough of it a week to last her a lifetime. 

“And yet when the time came you threw him to the wolves without a moment's doubt.” Ashe spit the words with such venom Catherine visibly flinched. 

“It’s not like that, Ashe...I did doubt...I agonized over it. I had no idea what to do, and it only got worse as time went on.” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” 

“No. I just want to make sure you know I’m not some callous monster. I have had to tell myself over and over, every single day that this is the right thing to do. That I’m on the right path. I did it when they came to take him, and I still do it now. I have so much that I've built since then, trying to make up for that day. If I regretted what happened, truly regretted it, I’d have no choice but to leave, walk away and discard everything I’ve done, everything I built. Then he will have died for nothing… and I'll have lived for nothing.” Catherine shuddered, her breathing ragged as she tried to contain herself. “I...I don’t blame you for not trusting me, Ashe. I don’t trust me either, not anymore.” 

“Catherine, I…” Ashe breathed a heavy sigh. “That doesn’t make it better, just to say you did what was right, because it was right.” 

“I know. Believe me, I know. It doesn’t make it any better to live with, either. But, what else am I supposed to do, Ashe? Walk away? Quit being a knight and go walk off into the sunset? That’s not how the world works, Ashe. Not outside of the books. There’s no walking away from being a knight. Even if I were to quit, any one of the dozens of bandit clans I fought, the church factions I defeated, the noblemen whose petty squabbles I ended, would send a blade after me in an instant if they found out. I can’t farm, and my family would cast me out in an instant if I abandoned the church. I, I have no choice, Ashe. Maybe I never did. What I did has to be the right thing. If it isn't...What else is there? ” 

Ashe had thought that if she gave her anger a voice she might finally find some sort of peace, or at least feel better. But no, now all she had was this conflicting mixture of shame for her outburst, sympathy for the woman before her, and anger at herself for feeling either of the two prior. She felt like an ass for having lost control of her emotions, but justified in her anger in the first place. Everything felt so complicated, she didn’t know if she was the one in the right or the one in the wrong, or if there even really was such simple categories in this sort of thing. 

The two stayed there, Ashe stood, Catherine sat on Seteth, for a very long time. They both could only sit in their own thoughts, trying to find something to pull themselves together. After a while, Seteth piped up from her place on the ground. Lifting her head and licking Catherine’s face jovially. Catherine couldn’t help but laugh as she pet the creature. 

“It...she seems to like you.” Ashe remarked, not quite a joke, but more than just a comment. 

“Hahaha, I would hope so…” Catherine said as the creature nuzzled against her head. “I’ve known Seteth since she was born.” 

“You were the squire, weren’t you?” Ashe asked. 

“Yup. I was on stable duty the day that this big bitch popped into the world, and was lucky enough to get to name her. Lady Rhea was... less than ecstatic at the name, but by then everyone was calling her Seteth, so she couldn’t really make us change it.” Catherine smiled as she remembered that time oh so long ago. It felt like centuries. “It’s getting a bit late, why don’t we call it good for the day?” Catherine suggested, pushing herself up. 

“Not yet. I’m not done.” Ashe remarked cooly. Catherine gave a nod and stood aside. She figured the kid had earned that much. Ashe wasn’t yelling at her anymore, but she could tell they were suddenly best friends. But, progress was progress. 

After several more failed attempts, they called it a day. Catherine noticed Ashe actually listening to her feedback now, if not enthusiastically, and that made her a bit proud. Maybe she was cut out for this whole teaching gig. 

“So, same time next week.” Ashe said as they walked Seteth back to the Wyvern stable. It struck Catherine out of nowhere, and she looked at the student a bit shocked. She had expected this to be a one and done session after everything that had happened. Even if they were better then they had been during their little incident, things still felt tense. 

“I mean, sure, if you wanted to. But don’t expect me to go easy on you like I did today. “ Catherine taunted, it did not seem very funny to Ashe..

“That was you going easy?” 

“Yup. You’re in for a world of pain next week, little man.” Catherine continued, only to see Ashe’s face drop a bit from a neutral expression to a frown. Shit, had she gone too far? “Hey, hey kid, come on I was just teasing you. It’ll be just like today, I promise.” 

“It’s fine..” Ashe said, but she could tell that wasn’t true. The look on the kid’s face was way too familiar to Catherine, like looking into a mirror. 

Was Ashe… like her?

Edelgard awoke that Sunday morning to find Kronya nowhere to be found. She was rather shocked at first, as the ‘girl’ was always at her door by the crack of dawn, regardless of the day Yet, when she awoke the sun was already above the treeline. Edelgard thought perhaps she should search for her, but that idea died quickly, she didn’t care what that damned monster did as long as it was away from her. 

When she remembered what day it was, she felt a rush and moved quickly to bathe and get dressed. If she was lucky, then the Professor would currently be doing her preparations for the week’s lectures, and may be able to actually enjoy tea with her teacher for the first time in almost a month and a half. 

As she was dressing for the day, she thought about how nice it would be to actually enjoy her day off for once in what had felt like an eternity. She tried to remember the last time she had actually had tea with her Professor. There wasn’t a time over the entirety of the month they spent preparing for the Battle of Eagle and Lion, due to ‘Monica’ and her constant bothersome meddling. That meant the last time would have been that afternoon when Caspar had come screaming about Manuela. That thought brought Edelgard’s mind slamming back to what exactly had been happening when Caspar had interrupted them. The past several weeks had been so stressful that she had managed to completely forget about the rather significant incident. What in the hell had she been thinking!? 

The pure and simple answer was she hadn’t been. Not during their tea, and not during that small conversation in the middle of the battle. Well, she’d been thinking. But not about the proper things, such as her strategy for finally attaining the crest stones they needed to continue their plan of attack against the church, nor her studies, nor her preparations to take the title of emperor. No, she’d been completely distracted by trivial thoughts such as a curiosity about what exactly her professor’s lips would feel like pressed against her own. Would it feel like it had in her dreams? 

She started to wonder if perhaps the dreams she had been dealing with the past few months had been something other than the ‘shock’ she had written them off as. Was there something more to them? To all of the strange thoughts she had been struck with as of late? She’d never really had any opportunity to consider feelings of that nature. How could she? She had been set on a path of war against the church, against the entirety of Fodlan, since she was but a child. There was little time in that life for friendship, let alone anything more. 

Hubert was the closest thing to any kind of friend she had ever had before her time here at the academy, but he was more akin to her brother than any sort of companion. Yet she seemed to be infatuated with the Professor she had known for less than a year, certain beyond denial. She sat on the edge of her bed as she tried to think.

What in the Goddesses name was she going to do? This could only complicate things further, and if there was one thing she needed absolutely no more of, it was complications. The Professor was not only currently in a relationship, however strange it seemed from the outside, but she was also an educator under the employ of the church. That same church which Edelgard had full intentions to tear from her motherland by the roots. 

The thought of Catherine made her stomach turn a bit. Not in an unpleasant way, but it didn’t help her current issue. She ignored that, pushing it aside. She needed no more new complications, and right now she was stuck on the Professor. 

There was so much that was doomed to fail in these thoughts. Perhaps that is what the horrifying endings to these dreams had been, her mind trying to warn her that the things her heart was wanting could only ever end in pain, for all of those involved. 

“Hey, El.” ‘Monica’s’ voice startled Edelgard from her thoughts, and she saw the monster, in her same human ‘suit’ as she so loved to call it, standing in her doorway. Edelgard looked up to the clock on the wall to see nearly an hour and a half had passed since she’d woken up. It was almost noon now. She had let her worries distract her, and now her chance was gone. The use of that name, that damned name, was an insult on top of injury. 

“Where have you been?” Edelgard’s voice made the red haired monster chuckle. 

“Oh, just simply submitting my report to your beloved uncle. I hope my absence wasn’t missed too terribly.” 

“Not at all. In fact being free of your inane drivel was quite a treat.” Edelgard said, standing up from her bed. 

“Oh, El you better be careful. That sharp tongue of yours may just slip and cut your head off in the process if you aren’t careful.” ‘Monica’ said, and the malice in her voice made Edelgard shiver. She stood and began walking out, heading to the dining room, where she expected the most people to be. She didn’t feel safe around this thing alone.

“As long as it slits your throat first, dear Monica, I’ll consider that a victory.” Edelgard replied in such a sickly-sweet tone that Kronya could only laugh. 

“You’re much more fun than I thought you’d be. Though I see your sense of humor clearly died with all your brat siblings.” Kronya cooed, her teeth glinting as she followed behind the princess. 

Edelgard sighed, silently despising herself for losing her opportunity to her own worrying and internal debate. Those thoughts would have to wait until later, it seemed, as would her time with her Professor. 

“Damn. How long?” Byleth asked, reading through the reports as she sat in her father’s office.

“Three weeks, at most. I sent a scouting team down, and they should be back in about a week and a half, a few days longer if something happens. Given the time it’ll take to travel there, and the reports we’re hearing, it’ll need to be before then. Manuela and some others will be accompanying us to provide medical aid to the sick, and we’ll be responsible for providing protection to medical crew there and back.” Jeralt explained, taking a drink from a glass of water. Byleth shook her head, sighing as she tossed the folder back onto the desk before throwing one leg over the other, relaxing back into her own chair. 

“No rest for the wicked, it seems.” Byleth mused, running her hand through her hair, and Jeralt chuckled as he saw the familiar gesture. It looked a bit more ridiculous on Byleth, with her short shaggy blue hair than it did with a certain troubled blonde’s longer hairstyle. 

“You’re telling me, kid. Seems like the whole damn school is running around like chickens with their heads cut off. I swear, they’re gonna work me into an early grave at this rate.” The glare he received told him rather patently that the joke was not appreciated. He thought it wise to change the subject. “So, how are your kids taking to their training? Their certifications are getting rather intense from what I hear.” 

“They’re doing well. Shockingly so, at times. A few of them seem to be struggling with some aspects, but I've been able to find assistance in regards to outside help to boost them where I am lacking. Ashe is actually working with Catherine this morning. Poor boy hasn’t been able to stay on his mount, let alone fight on it.” 

“I’m sure he’ll do fine. He’s a good kid. However I’d...worry about pairing him and Catherine. I know there’s plenty of tension there, old and new.” Jeralt warned, but Byleth waved him off. 

“I think that’s exactly why they should work together.” Byleth said, a small smile creeping onto their lips. 

“How do you mean?” 

“Well, those two haven’t sparred once since Catherine has begun training with the class. No fighting, they barely if ever speak to one another. It just sits there stewing. If they are forced to actually communicate with each other, to interact under stress…” 

“They blow up and try to kill each other.” Jeralt offered, pointing out the gaping hole in his daughter’s plan. 

“Well, yes. But assuming they blow up and manage not to murder one another, then perhaps that relieved tension will give some path forward. They don’t need to like each other, but their tension was bad for teamwork and morale. And frankly, I was tired of their bullshit.” 

“Heh, I guess that’s a good point. Not bad kiddo.” Jeralt said. 

“Thanks, dad.” Byleth said, hearing her say that still made him smile. 

“How in the goddess’s name did you manage to get Catherine to agree to that so quickly? The training, I mean. You two have only been speaking again for, what, a few days now?” 

“Well, it’s actually been something I had set up for prior to our… issue.” Byleth still wasn’t sure what to call it. Catherine had talked to her about the rather insane day that had preceded their return from the battle after dinner, and it only made matters more confusing for both of them, though she did feel better knowing she wasn’t dating some masterful abusive con artist. Was dating the proper word? They’d never really discussed any formal transition from ‘comrades blowing off steam’ to anything more, but had it not done that already? “I had let it slip during one conversation during a sparring match with Leonie a few weeks ago, just prior to the search for Flayn, that I’d heard from Edelgard about an offer Catherine had made to her and Ashe regarding Wyvern lessons. That girl and Ashe have been rather close for some time now, and I know that Ashe is hard pressed to say no to her. So, all I had to do after that was wait. I would guess that Leonie saw Catherine dining with us last night and pressured Ashe to finally ask her.” Jeralt’s brow arched as he looked proudly at his daughter.

“Damn, that's not bad, kid. Good on you.” He took another sip of his water and chuckled. His little girl really had grown so much in such a short amount of time. 

“Thanks, dad.” And again, hearing those words, that last one in particular, drew a smile to Jeralts lips that he just couldn’t hide. It was contagious, as Byleth couldn’t help the feeling of her own lips pulling up. Jeralt seemed to look at her for a moment, as if he was seeing a ghost. 

“You…” he played with the cup of water in his hands a bit as if he simply needed anything else but her to look at in that moment. “You look so much like your mother, kiddo. I know, if she could see you now she’d be damn proud of the woman you’ve become. Even if your life is much...stranger than I think we’d have wanted.” His mind flashed back to the rather lively chit chat he had overheard on his way from dinner the night before between one Dorothea and a young mister Claude.

They had been discussing an ‘incident’ during the battle earlier that day between his daughter and, from what he gathered, Lady Edelgard. He had pondered broaching the subject with her, but, to put it bluntly his daughter’s love life was already taking up too damned much of his time, so he was happy enough to let that be a topic his daughter raised first, not him. 

“That... I’m glad. She sounds like a really wonderful woman.” Byleth said. 

“She was.” The words seemed more of a whisper as they left her father’s lips. She could see his lower jaw trembling just a bit, and were he not refusing to look her in the eye she knew there’d likely be tears preparing to fall. “She really was the kindest woman I had ever met.”

“...Dad, why did you lie about mom to the Archbishop? About her dying back in Remire?” The discussion of Remire potentially being hit by a new plague had reminded her of what his dad had said all those months ago, and the question just burned in her. This drew a look of shame from the man before her, and Jeralt looked down at his half-drank glass of water. 

“I don’t suppose you’d want to finish this off?” He asked, seemingly ignoring her question as he offered the water. Byleth looked to him, confused, and shook her head, he shrugged. “I just hate to waste clean water.” He said, standing and dumping the glass in the pot of a large plant in one corner of his office, before walking over to a small ice chest and proceeding to pour himself a drink. He sat back down in his chair, taking a long pull from his glass before he continued speaking. “I lied because I don’t trust Rhea. I never have, and I've been plenty open about that, at least with you.” He said, taking another drink. 

“Then… why are we still here?” Byleth asked, gesturing to the church around her. “Why serve someone we don’t trust?” 

“Because I know if we try to leave again, there’s no way she’ll let us. I only managed to get you out the first time by nearly burning this all to the ground. She knows that you’re your mother’s daughter, I had just hoped we could find some way out if we bid our time.” Jeralt admitted. He was afraid. Afraid that he’d call down the wrath of the entire Church down on their heads, but at the same time afraid of what his daughter might endure if they didn’t.

“Why? Why don’t you trust her?” 

“Aside from your mother’s death, I have little evidence… it’s intuition, mostly. I just can’t get over the way she looks at people. It’s like how a chess player looks at their pieces. Cold, calculating… I swear, I’ve never seen something not go that damned woman’s way. Every argument I’ve ever seen her in, she won. Every dispute, a meeting later she’s the unflinching victor. No one is that lucky. No one is that skilled a negotiator or politician. I swear some days it’s like she has everyone on strings…” Jeralt suddenly got very quiet, the glass in his hand nearly slipping from his grip. 

“Dad?” Byleth’s voice snapped him from his thoughts, goddess knows how long after the candle had finally lit above his head. “Are you ok?” 

“I’m fine. I just realized I have a mission team coming in to be briefed for assignment in less than an hour. Sorry to cut things short, kiddo, but I need to prepare.” He said, briskly standing up and just-shy-of-shoving her to the door. Byleth’s protests were ignored, and the door quickly closed in her face. Jeralt leaned against the door, eyes wide as he tried to pull himself together. 

Could it have been staring him in the face this entire time? Nearly 2 days he’d thought, researched and tried to find an answer. But could it really be? What did it mean if it was? Not just for Catherine, but for him, Byleth, the students, everyone. 

Why, goddess, why did it always have to be so damned complicated? He had to be discreet about his searching from now on. She had to know he was looking into it by now, the only question was whether or not he would figure out what to do before she could . One thing was certain, he wasn’t going to let that snake sink her teeth into Byleth and Catherine’s lives the way she had his. He would be certain of that. 

“Hey Letty, how was the day?” Catherine asked, sitting at Byleth’s desk in her dormitory, polishing a sword with a clearly well-used set of oil, rags and whetstones laid out in front of her.

“Interesting, to say the least. Looks like me and the Eagle’s will be shipped off in a little over a week to go back to Remire.” Byleth threw the pile of papers onto her desk, nearly knocking over the bottle of oil. 

“Hey! Careful!” Catherine slid the oil away and peaked over the cover page as she rubbed the rag against the surface of her blade. “Remire, huh? Isn’t that where you come from?” 

“Yes. Dad and I called it home with the Brigade for quite a long time. Apparently they’re being hit with a rather intense illness, potentially even a plague. We’ll be guarding a medical team there and then back. Likely to be several weeks, at least.” 

“Shit, a multi-week assignment so close after coming back from the Battle of Eagle and Lion?” Catherine was astounded. That was a heavy workload for any class. But she knew Letty’s class would handle it without a problem. 

“No rest for the wicked, I guess.” Byleth shrugged, undoing her armor.

“You ever thought about leaving the armor off when you’re just here in the Monastery, Letty?” Catherine asked, leaning back and kicking her feet up on the desk as she honed the edges of her blade. The several prongs along either side made it a slow, detailed process, but she enjoyed it. It gave her something to focus on, and she found it shockingly easy to lose entire days to honing her blade. 

“I had considered it, but the business with Flayn last month has me thinking otherwise.” Byleth said, dropping her platemail to the ground and stretching out her shoulders.

“What, planning to give Lord Seteth another cracked skull?” Catherine grinned at the slight glare that comment earned her. 

“I meant the business of having an emergency battle beneath Jeritza’s chambers. There’s no telling what other dangers lurk around this campus.” Byleth muttered, dropping her gauntlets onto the floor. 

Catherine, while entranced by the honing, could still see the tension in her partner’s shoulders. She stood and rested the blade on the desk, walking quietly up behind Byleth and wrapping her arms around her midsection. Byleth jumped a bit at the touch at first, but calmed as she remembered who was in the room with her. Catherine pecked her way up Byleth’s neck, finishing the long trail with a kiss on her cheek. 

“You’re ok, Letty. It’s ok to relax.” 

To think, things had changed so much in so little time, and yet they seemed to just fall back into each other's lives as if they never left. She sighed, resting a hand on Catherine’s as they gripped her midsection and rested back, allowing Catherine’s arms to support some of her weight as she felt just how much her muscles seemed to ache. 

“I know. I just... are you serious?” Byleth asked, feeling something prodding her in the back. Catherine blushed and laughed awkwardly. 

“I swear, I started this with only the most wholesome intentions.” Catherine assured. Byleth laughed and rolled her eyes, but didn’t break the hug. 

“You are ridiculous.” 

“Hey, I don’t control that thing. Leave me out of it.” Catherine acted offended, but could barely hold back her laughter as she let go of the hug. Byleth went over to her bed and sat down, undoing her boots, a little bit more relaxed. Catherine returned to her honing. 

“So, how did Wyvern training go?” Byleth got a pretty good answer by the immediate blanching Catherine did at the words. “That bad?” 

“No, not bad. It was rough towards the end, but... I think I made some progress with him...er...well…” 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just something caught my eye when we were walking back to the stables. It might have just been my imagination, but Ashe had a look that, well, reminded me of myself at that age.” Catherine said, dragging the stone along the blade. 

“Do you think Ashe is... like you?” 

“Fuck, Letty, I don’t know. Maybe? It’s not very likely, I mean I’ve only ever met one other woman like me before, and that didn’t exactly go very well.” Catherine mumbled, memories of what Shamir had said running through her head. “I don’t know. But, we have another session next week.”

“Maybe ask then?” Byleth offered. 

“How the hell am I supposed to ask about that? Like ‘hey kid, you seem depressed, ever thought maybe you’re a chick? Been there, done that.’?” Catherine laughed and shook her head. “I’m barely making any progress with the kid as is. I think I’ll just try and focus on that. If Ashe tries to talk to me about gender shit, I’ll be there, but that’s something he...that’s something Ashe’ll need to bring up.” 

“So, if you’re having another session, I guess it couldn’t have gone too badly.” 

“I mean, Ashe called me a coward and shoved me onto the ground.” 

“I never said it went well.” Byleth specified, Catherine had to put the sword down, how hard she began laughing at that. 

Across the campus, Manuela sat at her desk flipping through her several overflowing piles of paperwork. Lord Seteth had been adamant about her keeping better documentation of the various injuries she tended to, and now she was playing backlog, at least until a familiar knock came from her door. Happy to have an excuse to ignore the papers, Manuela walked to the door and opener it, seeing Jeralt stood, rather awkwardly, in the hall outside of her medical bay. 

“Oh, Captain, are you in need of treatment?” She asked. The man didn’t seem injured, although he did look a bit strange. 

“No, actually. I’m fine. I just wondered if, well, you might be free tonight... for a drink.” Jeralt said. Manuela’s smile was a wide and devious one. 

“Absolutely. Let me grab my things, and I’ll be right back out.” She said,knowing she’d be cursing herself for putting off the paperwork tomorrow, but knowing it was better than cursing herself for doing it today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so yall know how long this story might end up being, this chapter's end brings us to the end of plotpoint 33/133. So uhhhhhh, hope yall enjoy the updates cus they're probably gonna be going on for a WHILE. 
> 
> Let me hear your comments! I love hearing the theories so much.


	17. Chapter 17: Life is Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some plans get moved up, some plans fall apart, some promises are made. Jeralt has an awkward dad moment with Leonie and wonders if literally anyone in this weird fucking school can have a normal damn relationship. Monica, Fredrique and Catherine go bear hunting, Fredrique enlists Byleth in a prank, Byleth is betrayed by Catherine AND Edelgard, and Those Who Slither cave a little too easily to Edelgard's demands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Lemme start off by saying this week's update is a bit less quality controlled then usual. Due to the last week being nuts with protesting, I wasn't able to proofread 2-3 times through like I usually do, so it's a bit rougher than I'd like, but I figured for a lot of folks having something stay routine could be nice right around now, so I hope you all enjoy! This chapter was really really awesome and fun to write, and I hope it's as fun to read!
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage

Another week, another missed sunday tea, and another Wyvern training session passed by. Edelgard spent quite some time attempting to escape her ‘oh so loyal bodyguard”, yet never could quite seem to be alone for longer than a minute. Even then, the moment her Professor came into view, Kronya would appear as if out of thin air to drag Edelgard away to this or that inane bother. 

Byleth found her time, however, filled rather well by her work preparing the class for the trip to remire village and spending time with Catherine as the two found themselves falling comfortably back into their usual rhythm. Catherine joined the Black Eagle’s for training days again, and it was in fact on one of those days, about a week before they were set to ship out to remire, that they received the news. 

Catherine was in the middle of barely managing to hold her own against Ashe in a sparring match Catherine could swear Byleth was letting run long. She blocked Ashe’s strike with her training sword, using the handguard to shove the axe away before rushing the younger combatant with a shoulder charge. Ashe managed to duck and roll out of her path, but while readying to try and sweep Catherine’s leg, her target leapt over the attack as if she had eyes on the back of her head. Ashe did however manage to land a good follow-up kick on Catherine’s backside when she landed again, and Catherine was thankfully too busy trying to keep her balance to notice the self-satisfied chuckle that came from Edelgard, who barely managed to dodge a strike to her throat from Monica attempting to capitalize on her distraction. 

Catherine finally lost her balance, opting to go with the motion and fall into a roll before popping back to her feet and turning back to her opponent who was already charging her, weapon at the ready. Catherine saw her chance and struck out, landing a solid punch to the Eagle’s sternum, sending Ashe to the ground, gasping for air. Byleth finally let out her quick, two note whistle signaling the end of the round, and Catherine moved to offer her hand to her ‘opponent’. Ashe huffed, reaching up and grabbing the offered aid. 

“I almost had you!” Ashe declared as Catherine helped her up. “Hey! I totally did! Another minute and I’d’ve won and you know it.” Ashe continued after seeing the eye roll the first comment had received. 

“Tell yourself whatever you like, kid. I was just letting you get overconfident so it was all the more humiliating when I beat you.” Catherine said, slapping Ashe on the shoulder, earning a shove back. 

“Oh you’re so full of shit, Catherine.” 

“Hey, watch it young lady, language like that’ll get your teacher pissed, and me blamed, likely.” 

“Young...lady?” Ashe asked, going bright red. 

Fuck. 

Catherine went wide eyed as she tried to think of some sort of excuse. She had worked to avoid any kind of reference to gender regarding the kid, as she was growing more and more certain that there may be more of a similarity between them than Ashe knew, but that was a slip that might have gone and overcorrected. 

“Uh, y..yeah, you know, I was...joking. It was meant to be a uh….” Oh that was not a route she wanted to take. Mock the kid and associate anything to do with their gender as a joke? No thank you. She needed to course-correct her course correction. “Uh…. you know what, maybe you whooped my ass a little harder than I thought.” This earned a massive grin. 

“Ha! Maybe next time I can knock the stupid out of you instead of the sense.” Ashe said, walking back to the weapons rack. 

“Good luck with that, kid.” Catherine muttered. Plenty of people had tried, no one had succeeded yet. One thing Catherine realized, however, was that Ashe definitely was smiling when she had made her little ‘slip’. 

“Rally up, Eagles.” Byleth hollered, leaning against a boulder towards the edge of the field, where the mass of students was starting to form around her. “Now, word has come up from the scouts that things have gone south in Remire Village. As such, our time table is going to be moving up. A lot. We’re to be out of the gate tomorrow at dawn.” Byleth said, to scattered murmurs from the class. 

“What do you mean, things went south?” Edelgard asked, worry evident in her voice. Thales had assured her that Remire Village wouldn’t be harmed , merely used for samples and left alone. Yet it seemed again they had lied to her face. 

“It appears the ill villagers are starting to come out of their fevers, and while they are physically healthier, they are now attacking each other like rabid dogs. As such, this mission has gone from security detail to peacekeeping. Prepare accordingly.” Byleth explained. “Yes, Dorothea?” Byleth acknowledged the student’s raised hand. 

“Will professor Manuela still be accompanying us?” 

“No. From the sounds of it, she’s staying behind to ensure her safety while we figure out what the hell is going on. Any other questions?” 

“Shouldn’t peacekeeping be more under the knights?” Caspar asked without raising a hand.

“The Knights of Seiros have been strained recently, given some developments with the western church.” Catherine cut in. 

“Exactly. Plus, the Archbishop believes it will be beneficial for you all to participate in a mission of this type, as there’s no telling what you may be responsible for once you graduate. Now, we will not be going in alone. We have the personal assistance of my father, the captain of the knights, and it appears that we’ll have a small team accompanying us.” 

“But didn’t Catherine just say the knights are strained?” Ferdinand asked. 

“It looks like, thanks to a paperwork error, a team of knights we’ve worked with quite frequently ended up being neglected from current deployments, and as such they’re available to provide some assistance.” Byleth cracked a small smile looking toward Catherine, who received the message loud and clear with a smile on her face.‘You’re coming along too.’ “Now, that’s enough standing around. Training is over. Get your asses cleaned up and get packing. We’re meeting at the southern gate tomorrow at dawn. A moment late and I'll kick your asses all the way to Remire and back, I swear to the goddess. Yes, Linhardt, that means you.” the class quickly dispersed, and Catherine stood, waiting as Byleth sauntered over towards her. 

“So, paperwork error?” Catherine asked.

“That’s no bullshit. At least as far as I’m aware. According to dad your team's mission folder was mysteriously nowhere to be found until this morning, when he found it in his drawer.”

“That’s not ominous at all.” Catherine joked. 

“Either that or dad is full of shit and just wanted some extra muscle.” Byleth muttered, hands on her hips. 

“That sounds much more likely. Think I got enough clothes at your dorm to pack a bag?” Catherine asked. 

“Probably. I did laundry yesterday and your shit was more than half the basket.” 

“Hey, make your bed less comfortable and quit being so cute when you sleep and maybe I’d leave less shit in your room.” 

“You watch me when I sleep?” Byleth asked, seeing Catherine’s face go bright red. 

“N.no! I just mean that like, well, uh… ” 

“Cat, I’m fucking with you. It’s ok.” Byleth patted her on the cheek and nodded towards the dorms. “Come on, we have packing to do.” 

“Sounds good to me. Maybe you’ll get lucky and get a chance to talk to Princess.” 

“I highly doubt it. I swear that girl is so creepily obsessed with Edelgard nothing shy of a bear dragging her away by her neck will get her to leave her side.” 

“Well, however that all goes, let’s just pray things go better between me and your dad than last time. I’d rather not have a door broken down and get tossed around like a ragdoll again.” 

“He did what, now?” Byleth asked. 

“Oh, nothing!” Catherine said, chuckling and hurriedly moving toward the dorm. Byleth looked unimpressed. 

Once they were back in Byleth’s dorm and had finished packed, she was able to find a rather easy way to ‘convince’ Catherine to clarify exactly what she had said, however that did mean she had to put her sweaty gym clothes back on before they could walk down to the bath house, as they’d already packed most of their clean clothes away. Byleth had definitely not thought that plan through all the way.

Early that next morning Manuela knocked softly on Jeralt’s office door, hearing a rushed scuffle of motion on the wood flooring before Jeralt told her to come in.

“Good morning, Sir Jeralt.” Manuela said, walking in and seeing the slightly disheveled knight in full armor looking over some folders on his desk. It appeared he wasn’t too engaged with them however, as he looked up and smiled at her, relaxing back into his chair. 

“Manuela, I really don’t think formalities are all that necessary. If the sun isn’t even out, the titles don’t need to be.” Jeralt mused, resting his head on his hand. 

“Well, I figured since I was here for business, not pleasure, that a bit of formality might be good.” Jeralt chuckled and shook his head. 

“Well, what were you needing then, professor Manuela?” Jeralt asked. Manuela walked over and rested a small stack of glass vials on the desk, each capped with a dark rubber stopper. 

“I just wanted to leave these with you, and ask that if you have the opportunity, gather a sample of these Rabid Villager’s blood to allow me to study. If you make your return trip right after collecting the sample, and keep it warm on your person, the blood may rot slowly enough that I can revive it for study once you return.” Jeralt picked up the vials and nodded, dropping them into the pouch on his belt. 

“Well enough, I’ll see that it gets done and done properly.” Jeralt affirmed, staying leaned forward to collect the folders on his desk, all for the one he prayed Manuela hadn’t seen him stashing away. She was a kind woman and Jeralt had no reason to distrust her, but then again so was Catherine and he had no reason until she had given him one. “Is there anything else, Professor?” Jeralt stopped his paperwork gathering when a soft hand rested atop the weathered, calloused skin of his own. 

“Please just be careful. The reports from the scouts...they’re concerning to say the least.” Manuela said, she shook her head and went to pull her hand back and apologize, she’d just said she was trying to keep this professional and look at her. But she found her hand stopped, albeit hesitantly, by Jeralt’s. She was rather shocked at how such a visibly battle-scarred hand could be as gentle as it was. 

“Don’t worry, Manuela. I’m old but I have plenty of fight in me. We’ll have an entire team out there, and those kids are a force to be reckoned with if the reports I hear are true. I’ll be fine.” Jeralt assured. He was rusty, to say the least, at this type of conversation but at the same time he was too tired, too old to beat around the bush. Manuela seemed to be much the same. Perhaps that was why he’d found their ‘nightly outings’ the past week to be so pleasant. 

“You had better, Jer. You still owe me for drinks last night.” Manuela teased. Jeralt stood, chuckling and shaking his head as he let go of her hand and moved around the desk. 

“Well, I’m sure with the gold from this month’s mission I'll be able to do that in spades. But you know, you are more than welcome to come along.” Manuela laughed, slapping his arm. “Ow! I didn’t mean like that!” 

“Oh, is the big scary knight hurt by the mean school nurses slaps?” Manuela teased, carefully walking her fingers up the front of Jeralt’s breastplate. “Boo hoo. Make it back safe and I’m sure I’ll find a way to make it up to you. But I am not one to camp if not absolutely necessary, and I've seen enough plagues in my lifetime.” Manuela tapped him on the nose, making the older man go a bit cross eyed as he tried to follow her finger. “But you go have fun, Sir Jeralt.” Manuela said as she walked away slowly. Jeralt knew she walked that way on purpose, she’d confessed as much on their first night out drinking together. 

He tried to collect himself again and made sure his travel pack was ready to go as he threw it over his shoulder, moving out and locking his office tight before moving to the stables. 

Jeralt wasn’t sure exactly what the hell had possessed him to ask Manuela to drinks that first night, but he was glad he had. It was difficult, the first night or two, trying to reconcile the pleasantness of being around her with the fact he knew he’d never really truly be ‘over’ his lost wife. But at the same time, Manuela was comfortable to be around in a way that made that seem like less of an issue. She had her own issues, her own past, her own troubles she was dealing with on her own and she knew he had his. It seemed to work, for how short it had been. Whether it would last long at all was up to the goddess and him keeping his foot out of his mouth. 

But there was a comfortable familiarity in connecting with someone else who was, to put it in a way he’d never say to her face, too damn old and too damn tired to deal with the drama and nonsense. They both enjoyed having someone warm beside them in bed, and they found it easy to whittle away the hours talking. It didn’t need to be anything more complicated than that. Jeralt was certain that if it did, he likely wouldn’t have said yes when Manuela knocked on his door that second day and asked if he wanted to get dinner. But either way, he was glad he had. 

Several hours later Jeralt and Leonie marched alongside the rest of the class through the thick woods of Fodlan, traveling farther and farther south towards Remire village. Catherine and Byleth took the front of the convoy,with Catherine’s men on the opposite edge. It had been about an hour since they’d left for the long march ahead, the route more familiar to some than to others.

Jeralt had been content leaving things quiet as they marched, but as the path to Remire dragged on, Jeralt noticed Leonie’s toying with the handle of her lance. He figured something was bothering her, but wondered if this was more of a situation where he ought to let her bring it up. He had, rather brutally, had it shown to him that he wasn’t as skilled in the ‘emotional support’ department as he had previously thought. He could still hear Byleth’s angry shouting in his head from earlier that morning. ‘So care to explain why you broke down my girlfriend’s door and threw her around the barracks?!’ 

Jeralt could admit that his reaction was a bit less than restrained, but… no, he could acknowledge he’d jumped the wyvern on that one. Byleth had thankfully been more understanding once he had explained his reasoning, or, well, he had explained his reasonings, and ended with ‘wait, girlfriend?’ and both of the women had gotten rather red and quickly dropped the topic. It seemed Byleth had inherited his level of tact with women, and for that, he would be sorry till the day he died. 

“Jeralt…” He was pulled from his thoughts by Leonie, who had moved to his side of his horse, now talking just above a whisper. “Can I ask your advice?” 

“Uhh, sure. What seems to be the problem, kiddo? Need help with your lance training?” 

“No. I’ve been keeping to the drills you showed me back home, and I have been getting a lot of help from Byleth and Catherine lately, so I’m doing pretty good there. But, well, I need advice about um, relationship stuff.” Jeralt had to fight the urge to groan out loud, but by the nervous way Leonie seemed to be rubbing the back of her neck, he figured that likely wouldn’t be very helpful.

“Well, uh, I guess I could help. But wouldn’t it be better to get advice from someone more...your peer?” 

“Who would you recommend? Dorothea is a gossip, Petra and Bernadetta aren’t exactly social butterflies, Byleth and Catherine…”

“I get it, I get it. Just, ok, what’s going on?” 

“Well, I,ok there’s a classmate of mine that I like, I think? I don’t quite know how to,well, how to tell if he likes me?” Jeralt sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Of course. 

“Well,I’ve never known you to be bashful about saying what you thought. Why should this be any different?” Jeralt asked. 

“I..I don’t know. I...might have killed his father.” Jeralt wondered why no one in this damned academy could seem to have a simple, uncomplicated relationship. 

“I...You...Please, explain.” 

“It...it’s Ashe. He said he doesn’t blame me, but whenever I try to talk to him, he just gets awkward. I’ve noticed he gets really upset some times when I compliment him, and I just want to grab the scrawny little shit by his collar and ask him what the hell is wrong, but...I don’t imagine that’s a really good idea.” Jeralt felt a rare sense of relief as Leonie mimed the gesture of shaking Ashe by the throat, there was the Leonie he’d taken on as his apprentice.

“Yes, let’s avoid that as best we can.” Jeralt moved over to pat the girl on the shoulder. “Listen, maybe Ashe just, well, needs time to figure himself out. I think the best you can do is just keep on however it is you’ve been doing, and trust him to either come to you when he’s ready, or to tell you when he needs space. You’re not a mind reader...are you?” Leonie shook her head no. “Well, then you’ve just got to trust Ashe to speak up, and there’s not a whole lot else you really can do.” 

“I guess you’re right. I just hope the scrawny little shit gets his act together soon. I’m starting to get worried.” 

“I’m sure whatever he’s dealing with will work itself out. Just put a pin in it until then, ok?” 

“Ok. Thanks, Jeralt.” Leonie said, smiling up at him. 

“Of course, kiddo.” Jeralt reached over, pulling Leonie into a rather awkward hug from the side. 

“Go talk to her, Letty.” Catherine said, jabbing Byleth in the side with her elbow and gesturing with her head towards the silver haired girl walking a few paces behind them. 

“Catherine, are you that blind? Monica hasn’t let Edelgard out of her clutches all morning, and I'm not about to go pry my student away from her classmate just to chit chat.” 

“Well, I mean you two probably should talk, considering your little stunt on the battlefield.” Catherine said, shrugging. Byleth went red. 

“I...how did you know about that?” 

“Byleth, you two nearly made out on a battlefield for one of the biggest gossips in all of Fodlan to see. Had it not been for Dorothea telling him to keep his mouth shut, I’m pretty sure Claude would have told the entire school.” 

“It wasn’t like that. We were just talking and then...you aren’t mad?” 

“Why would I be?”

“I don’t know, finding out I almost kissed another girl doesn’t seem like the type of thing that ends with ‘and everything was fine’.” Byleth remarked, thinking back to how many stories of Dorothea’s she’d heard starting along those lines and ending with some drama. 

“I’m not the type for that shit. You’re not my property, any more than I am yours. If you want to rail your student, more power to you. However I do wish you would have talked to me about it first.” 

“Catherine will you keep your voice down!” Byleth whispered harshly. “I...I’m sorry, you’re right. About the talking part. I do not want to...that!” 

“Whatever you say, Letty. But you two really should talk. You’ve been a crabby bitch for weeks now, and I know it’s cus that Monica girl is making Princess’s life rough.” 

“You know she hates when you call her that, right?” Byleth asked. 

“Why do you think I do it?” Catherine shot back, a cocky grin on proud display. 

“You’re a jerk, that’s why. Also, I am not bitchy!” 

“That’s debatable.” 

“You’re an ass.” Byleth said, rolling her eyes so hard they might risk disconnecting the nerve. 

“Well, here, let me make it up to you.” Catherine said, turning around dead in her tracks. “Freddy, did you hear that?” Catherine called to the archer. 

“Yup. Sounds like a bear to me.” Fredrique replied, lazily. 

“Well shit, looks like we ought to send out a hunting party to nab some extra rations. Any volunteers?” Catherine didn’t pause for a single second, and happily ignored Leonie and Caspar’s already raised hands. “Thank you, Monica. We appreciate your help.” 

“What?” Monica started, as Catherine was already, quite literally, dragging her away by the collar as Fredrique and her walked off the trail into the woods. No one seemed to bat an eye at the occurrence, save for Jeralt, but he didn’t say anything. 

For a moment, the class just carried on marching as if it had been undisturbed, but slowly, Edelgard seemed to move forward just a bit faster than Byleth, until they just so happened to be walking beside each other. 

“Professor.” Edelgard said, trying to hide her nerves. 

“Edelgard.” Byleth replied, rather nervous herself. The rather long gap without much interaction between them had left her rather struggling to find words to say now that she had the opportunity. 

“It seems so very...uncharacteristic of Monica to volunteer for something as grueling as bear hunting.” A smile crept onto Edelgard’s lips as she spoke, coyly playing along with the bit.

“It does. I’ll have to thank her for putting in the extra effort during our next training session.” 

“What, no extra laps?” Edelgard teased. 

“Oh goddess, no. I can’t go being that lenient. I’d have a full-scale rebellion on my hands from the lot of you.” 

“Oh? You really think so little of your students? I would’ve thought our continued training during your absence after the Miklan incident would have proven us quite determined.” Edelgard said, not too-unimpressed with her leadership in maintaining the house without the Professor. 

“I suppose. But then again, I swear i’ve been seeing Hubert actually smile as of late, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I were to wake tomorrow with a skeleton hand or something like that. Nothing is certain anymore.” Byleth heard Edelgard giggle, and couldn’t help but smile at the sound. She really had missed it. 

“It would very much seem he and ‘that damned fool Ferdinand’ are getting along rather well as of late.” Edelgard eyed Hubert, who just-so-happened to be walking conveniently beside Ferdinand as the two bickered back and forth about this or that assorted nonsense. 

“Hmmmm, I thought I’d noticed them grabbing coffee more often lately. I’m happy for them. Perhaps that’ll help Hubert get whatever log-sized stick he has out of his ass and he can relax for a minute.” 

“Professor!” Edelgard yelled, punching the now laughing woman in the arm. 

“Ow, my apologies. I’ll extend them personally to Lord Vestra when I have the time.” Byleth chuckled, rubbing her arm a bit as she got a bit quiet. “But um...I really have been seeing those two around a lot. They’ve been sitting at the same gazebo every few days since we caught them back on the search for Flayn.” The fact that that was the same gazebo they had occupied every sunday until recently went unremarked, but not unknown. 

“Yes...I have seen them there often as of late.” Edelgard chewed on the inside of her cheek as she tried to think of what to say. What could she say? Where could she begin? 

“I’ve missed our sunday’s.” Byleth said, plainly. Edelgard was torn between her feeling happy to see the same bluntness she’d come to appreciate from her Professor, and a mixture of rage and sadness at hearing the hint of sadness behind the remark. “I’ve been worried that Monica is being too demanding of your time, cutting into your studies and training. I understand you are concerned about your comrade. It’s admirable, in fact. But you should not burn to keep others warm, Edelgard. That could cost your life in a battle. Has Monica made you feel at all uncomfortable?” Byleth asked, concern evident. Edelgard sighed and tried to think of a way to talk her way out of this, to assure her Professor of her safety, when Edelgard knew well enough how far from safe she was in ‘Monica’s’ presence. How could she do that, as well, without making it seem as if she weren’t just happily avoiding her Professor? 

“I wouldn’t say unsafe. She is a bit clingy, I could call it, but I suppose, in her case, I’d do the same. Latch on to the first person I found who would let me, but I have been thinking of speaking to her about...boundaries.” Edelgard had, in fact, been trying to find a way to set a boundary between her and Kronya, she would just prefer it be several dozen miles wide and reinforced with barbed wire. However, she thought this may just be the leverage she needs to finally do away with the ‘girl’. 

“Well, if that goes south, let me know and we can take this concern to the Archbishop if necessary.” 

“Ah, no intention of handling her like you did Lord Seteth?” Edelgard taunted. She could still remember the crack she heard when that fight had been occuring. Only later had she actually learned that sound was her Professor headbutting said lord, and likely cracking one or both of their skulls in the process. 

“No. I think I have earned myself enough ill will with the Archbishop, and that wouldn’t likely earn me any less.” 

“Hm, so you’re finally learning to actually think before you act? Quite impressive.” Her Professor faced her and smiled, and Edelgard felt that same pang in her chest. 

“What can I say, I’ve had a good teacher.” 

“Aren’t you meant to be the teacher, Professor?” Edelgard asked, looking away quickly. Byleth chuckled, fingers drumming on the hilt of her shortsword. 

“I find learning is as important to being a good instructor as teaching.” Byleth swallowed a bit as she saw Edelgard’s smile, and the slight red tinge to her cheeks. That was a good sign, yes? Or had she said something wrong and embarrassed her? Damnit, of all she could say about Catherine, at least she’d made her interest very, very clear. 

“Professor...I...I wanted to speak to you about the mock battle. I’m sor…” 

“Edelgard, I don’t think here is the place to speak about that.” Byleth said bluntly, cutting her off. “I think...I think that conversation is better suited to a moment when we have more time, and aren’t trying to steal time to speak between our obligations to our comrades.” 

“Oh, yes of course.” Edelgard said, going redder as they continued on. They walked in quiet for a while longer, just around a bend in the path, before Byleth thought to correct something. 

“But I will say...I don’t think apologies are needed. Quite the opposite, in fact. Perhaps...Perhaps we can discuss it more over the next chance we have for sunday tea?” Byleth offered, Edelgard replied before she’d even finished her sentence. 

“It’s a date!” The moment the words left her mouth, Edelgard wished she could be consumed by a Wyvern right then and there at how embarrassed she felt. Byleth simply chuckled. 

“Sounds good to me. Now, It would seem I have several weeks of Adrestian gossip to be caught up on. Care to fill me in?” 

The two of them chatted on and on as the trail carried them forward, laughing and groaning at each other's various rumors, drama, and assorted stories. After over an hour and a half, Catherine, Fredrique, and a none-too-pleased Monica returned, empty handed save for a few squirrels and a wild boar.

Another few hours later, the party found a spot to settle in for the night in a small clearing in the woods, and began pitching their tents and preparing for a meal. It was relatively quick work, for everyone besides Byleth, Catherine, and one particular red headed archer. 

Byleth had been walking back to where she’d seen Catherine heading earlier when she heard a voice off to her side. 

“Hey, teach, wait up.” Fredrique said as he jogged over towards her, trying to keep his voice down as he spoke. 

“Can I help you?” Byleth asked, resting a hand on her hip. 

“Yeah, I think so. Name’s Fredrique.” He said, offering her his hand. She didn’t shake it. 

“I remember. We’ve worked together before.” 

“Well...yeah, I figured better safe then...anyway that’s not important. I need your help with something.” 

“Yes, we’ve covered that part. What would that be, Fredrique?” 

“I want to prank Catherine. You in?” Byleth looked the man up and down, and the mischievous smile on his face seemed to be rather contagious. 

“Hey, Letty.” Catherine remarked as Byleth walked over to where she was pitching her tent. 

“Hey Cat.”

“What’s up?” Byleth shrugged, tossing her bag off to the side as she moved to help Catherine put one of the tent poles in place. 

“Just seeing if you needed help pitching our tent.” 

“Uh, our tent?” 

“Well, yes. Doesn’t make much sense for us to pitch two when we could save time and share, now does it.” Byleth remarked, completely unbothered by the prospect, seeming to miss Catherine’s awkwardness. 

“Oh, um, yeah, I suppose.” Catherine tried to salvage her composure, earning a giggle from Byleth. “What's so funny?” she asked as they finally planted the last stake, leaving a rather well built tent between them. Byleth shrugged. 

“Oh nothing. You’re just so awkward sometimes.” 

“Well, I mean I’m just a bit worried about your dad getting weird.” 

“What? Worried he might overhear something?” Byleth asked, stepping a bit too close and dragging her finger slowly down the front of Catherines armor, making the knight go wide eyed. Catherine leant back against a nearby tree that was just towards the edge of the smaller clearing they were tucked away in, and felt Byleth’s breath on her ear as she leaned in and whispered. “Did you think I might’ve had some nosier plans in mind than just sleeping?” Catherine was trying to find the words to reply appropriately, or really just reply at all, when she heard a loud scream from the bushes beside her. 

“Catherine! I’ll have your ass for this!” ‘Jeralt’ screamed from the bushes, earning a shriek from Catherine as she nearly leapt from her skin. 

Fredrique however couldn’t hold his Jeralt impersonation any longer, owing to how much he was laughing. The archer fell out of the bushes, clutching at his sides. As Catherine looked over at him, her eyes filled with utter rage. 

“I am going to fucking kill you, Freddy.” Byleth moved to stand up, but right at that moment, Byleth finally lost it, and the utter, uncontrollable laughter that poured out of her stopped Catherine dead in her tracks. She’d heard Byleth chuckle before, even laugh, but that pure, gut-busting, gasping-for breath laughter made Catherine’s heart weak, and for a moment distracted her long enough for Fredrique to escape. 

“You...you were in on it!?” Catherine asked, laughing a bit at how red Byleth’s face had become. She was still gasping for air, but nodded in confirmation. “Letty, you asshole!” Catherine joked, shoving her shoulder. 

“You should have seen your face! Oh, Goddess, Cat, it was too much.” 

“Oh whatever. Keep laughing and you can either pitch your own tent or sleep in the dirt tonight.” Catherine taunted. The dinner bell rang then, and she moved to the center of the camp as Byleth followed behind. 

“Oh, I’m sure I could find a way back into your good graces.” Byleth teased. And Catherine could only roll her eyes and laugh. 

The cooking rack which had been set over the flames of the fire sizzled with several large cuts of heavily seasoned meat, and Joseph stood over the rack preparing several plates, which Ashe and Leonie were hard at working distributing around the camp. Once everyone was dished out, they sat around the fire, scarfing down the food hungrily. 

Byleth and Catherine took a seat on the ground near Edelgard and Monica. The sun was starting to set off in the distance, and the camp was growing more and more centered around the fire as the dinner went on. Byleth tore a chunk from the cut of beef she’d grabbed off the rack, chewing it slowly as the rich flavor coated her tongue. It was heavenly. 

“Holy shit, Joe, you really outdid yourself tonight.” Catherine said through a mouthful of food, looking over to the bearded man who was currently leaned back against a large rock with one arm around Fredrique’s shoulder. 

“Oh, you’re just trying to get on my good side so I’ll stop Reekee from enlisting Miss Eisner and her students into any more pranks.” Joseph said, smirking at the blonde. 

“Oh, what’d I hear about a prank?” Jeralt asked, looking up from his plate of food. Catherine practically choked on her food.

“No...Nothing sir.” Catherine said through choked coughs, Byleth slamming her palm into her back, trying to help but only knocking the food down farther. Edelgard looked over, laughing at the absurd display of the two. Fredrique sat up, an evil glint in his eye, but found Joseph’s arm tightening around him, holding him in place. It seemed like ‘polite encouragement’ to leave well enough alone. 

“But really, Sir Joseph, it is delicious.” Leonie said from a spot on a small log beside Ashe. 

“It is divine! I haven’t had such well cooked meat since my time home in Brigid.” Petra chimed in, both the women sat beside her looking a bit dejected. Petra soon became distracted by trying to do some damage control as the rest of the class echoed the praise. 

“It’s amazing!” came from Caspar.

“Really, superb.” Lindhart echoed from beside him. 

“I am just thankful to not be eating the Professor’s ‘trail meals’, as she calls them.” Hubert added, however after the thud of a swift elbow to the side and a glare from Ferdinand, who was sat beside him, he quickly included “But it is truly, delicious. Thank you, sir.” 

“Oh, Hubert my trail meals are not that bad. They’re rough, but they’re not bad!” Byleth chimed in. Silence filled the camp. 

“Uh, Professor…” Ferdinand started. “I really don’t know how to say this…” 

“Your cooking tastes absolutely awful.” Hubert finished for him. 

“Oh it does not!” Byleth said. 

“Um...it really kinda does, Letty..” Byleth looked absolutely betrayed over to Catherine. “You’re a wonderful woman, but your cooking tastes like ass.” 

“Hey, watch it, Catherine.” Jeralt said pointedly to the knight, who raised her hands in surrender. “I’m sure that’s a bit dramatic.” 

“No sir.” And yet again, Byleth looked over, this time in the opposite direction as Edelgard chimed up in her condemnation. “The word choice feels accurate. It tastes like ass.” 

“Hell yeah! Princess has got my back!” Catherine cheered, leaning over to offer a high five. Edelgard did not return it, much to Fredrique’s amusement. 

“Is it really that bad…?” Byleth asked, drawing a weak rub on the back from Catherine as she tried to pull her own type of damage control. For a moment she and Petra locked eyes in mutual expressions of ‘damnit’. 

“That might be on me…” Jeralt mumbled, his own mouth full of food. “I uh, never exactly was too good of a cook, so I don’t really think you had much of a shot. But it really couldn’t be that bad.” 

“I assure you, Captain Jeralt, sir, it really is.” Ashe chimed in, and with that the betrayal was complete. Byleth was completely alone. 

“Oh, Professor, you know we adore you, horrible cooking at all. Catherine and Edelgard especially.” Dorothea chimed in, now rather consoled from Petra’s foot-in-mouth moment. Edelgard went bright red as several eyes turned to her, and Catherine nearly lost it, trying not to cackle like a hyena. The head-of-house shot Dorothea a look of utter betrayal not much different from Byleth’s own previous ones, and Dorothea giggled a bit as she waved the girl off. “I just mean, for a head of house to betray a professor so readily. Truly, Edelgard, you have a forked tongue.” The explanation was enough to give the class who, already well aware of the situation, could play it all off as Dorothea toyed with Edelgard. “What could you have possibly thought I meant?” 

Jeralt coughed into his palm, feeling like he knew what was going on, and even if he didn’t he would rather not be involved with it.

“Alright. Let's get settled in for the night. Who’s on for first watch?” Jeralt asked. 

“Me and Monika.” Edelgard said, raising her hand.

“Great. Second?” Byleth and Catherine raised their own hands. “Fantastic. Third?” And that was followed by Ashe and Leonie. “Wonderful. Everyone else, pack in and shut up.” Jeralt ordered, and the remaining students and knights not on their watch moved to their tent. 

“I can not believe you’d throw me to the wolves like that.” Byleth griped, shoving Catherine as they changed into their night-clothes, or more precisely Catherine’s night clothes as Byleth was wearing the second pair Catherine had packed instead of her own. 

“Oh please, Letty, that wasn’t a betrayal it was an intervention.” Catherine said, keeping her footing as she slid her bra off and replaced her undershirt. 

“Oh just lay down and shut up, you absolute ass.” Byleth muttered, and Catherine did as she was told. Byleth soon crawled in after her, the tent being rather small for two, which suited them just fine. Catherine laid out of her back, using Byleth’s bedroll as a blanket overtop of both of them, while Byleth used Catherine’s chest as a pillow. Catherine felt Byleth drag her finger slowly up and down her abdomen. “You know...if you wanted to…” 

“Not a chance after your lil stunt with Fredrique earlier.” Catherine said, half joking and half sleep-mumbling. Byleth rolled her eyes, and soon the two were fast asleep. 

“Why are we leaving the camp, again?” Kronya asked, her voice uncovered as they trekked into the woods.

“I told you, we have business to attend to.” 

“Right, ‘business’, and what exactly would that be, huh El?” Kronya asked, her grin being audible in her voice as she used that name. 

“I would be rather interested in hearing your reasoning for drawing us out here as well, Flame Emperor.” The voice didn’t echo, even in the dead silence of the woods. Thales stood without his usual disguises or illusions, several heads taller than her, skin and hair a pale, ashen white and his eyes blank. He wore long black robes that seemed undirtied by the nature around him. 

“I am quite curious myself.” There was Solon, standing an inch or two shorter than Edelgard, with his back curled forward and the same pale white skin and hair, however his eyes were pitch black with piercing white pupils. His curiosity had several times been expressed on her skin, she had the scars to prove it. 

“I am here to try and stop your damned lackey from ruining our mission.” Edelgard said, gesturing towards Kronya, whose ‘monica’ form was still held if nothing but for her own laziness.

“Lackey?!” Kronya sneered, drawing much to close as she stared Edelgard in the eyes. “Care to repeat that to my face, El?” Edelgard wished to take a tool from her Professor’s playbook, and smash Kronya’s nose into her skull or whatever malformed mass made up her head, but had to play things well. One wrong move could put her, her classmates, even her own Professor in their sites. 

“Kronya, silence.” Solon ordered. “Now, Flame Emperor, explain why you summoned us here.” 

“Your pet has spent so much time hounding me and pulling me away from my work in the academy, to no benefit of our cause I might add, and in so doing has drawn the attention of so many others in the class that now people are intervening to see if I am of need of protection from the one you have sent to protect me! Some have even gone so far as to infer about discussing her ‘obsession’ with me with the Archbishop.” Edelgard knew she needed to make the references as vague as possible, knowing outing any specific people was a recipe for disaster. 

Thales and solon looked between each other, as if communicating without speaking. 

“What would you request, then, Flame Emperor? Clearly we can not trust you to maintain your own cover, so how do you intend to address this?” Solon asked. 

“Well, even were I not to have any expansions in my plans to ensure protection of my identity, I still managed to maintain my secret for over twice as long as it has taken Kronya to draw such undue attention. But I have several adjustments I am planning to make in hopes of ensuring my security. Too many to list at the moment, but I assure you, there will be plenty done, and no one shall grow the wiser.” Thales chuckled at this, letting that sound fill the air for a long, drawn out second before speaking. 

“Well, I would certainly hope you have measures enough to ensure that secret, Flame Emperor.” He said, stepping forward and resting a hand on her shoulder, the long, sharp fingers curling slowly, digging harder and harder into her flesh. “Because, if you are lying to us, and there is some...ulterior motive, or if you were so foolish as to let someone find your identity and put our mission in jeopardy, you know what would have to happen, yes?” Edelgad nodded, her jaw tight. “Say it, Flame Emperor.” 

“You would do away with me.” 

“Oh, not just you, foolish child. All those whom you had allowed to compromise your mission, as well as those closest to them. Your dear little pet, Von Vestra, would be first. Then, whomever you were foolish enough to allow to learn your role, and anyone whom they may have told. That would mean, were it to be say, one of your classmates, we’d have to be certain, and do away with them all.” 

“And that bitchy teacher of yours, as well.” Kronya chimed in. 

“Yes, her as well. And let us be clear, that goes as well for if you are foolish enough to allow outside distractions to pull you from your ordained purpose. Is that understood, Flame Emperor?”

‘Flame Emperor’ when mixed with ‘ordained purpose’ showed the reality of the situation. Her title, while regal to others, meant nothing to these monsters. It was not a title of nobility to them, it was her designation as their pawn. She was a role to fill, one they could replace at their own beck and call. She knew their words were not an empty threat. They would kill the entire class and anyone else they needed to to ensure their goals. 

“Understood, sir.” Edelgard said mechanically. 

“Good.” Thales stood tall, his mouth pulled into a sick, mangled grin. “Kronya, ensure your duties and obligations are fulfilled by tomorrow, and do not be returning to Garreg Mach with Flame Emperor once their current mission is completed, understood?” 

“Understood, sir.” 

“Good. Now away with you two!” With that, Thales and Solon both vanished into thin air. 

“Looks like you got what you wanted, El. lucky bitch.” Kronya said, her smile never leaving her face. 

Something felt wrong, Edelgard knew it. She never got what she wanted, never in her entire life. Her life in the past decade had been nothing but one long torment after another, going from child, to experiment, to pawn, and yet she was just being...handed this? Given her freedom if only in some small way? This couldn’t be right. 

The night drew on, Byleth and Catherine took their shift on watch, and their portion of the evening went on without much in the way of excitement. Catherine took the time to clean, sharpen, and oil her sword, and the two sat in quiet as she did so. Byleth knew how Catherine could get, when it came to maintaining her equipment. She would seem to become so fixated on the process in all its intricacies and details that it was rather difficult, and for her rather unpleasant, to snap from if Byleth needed to talk to her. So when she did it, Byleth let her be and took the time to maintain her own equipment. She cleaned her gauntlets, oiled the hinges, sanded away what little rust had been allowed to accumulate, and the shift passed them by with nothing but a comfortable silence between them. 

Soon enough, Catherine finished her task and byleth stood, stretching as she spoke for the first time in hours. 

“I’ll wake Leonie, you wake Ashe?” 

“Sounds good to me, babe.” Catherine said, completely missing the smile that last word brought to Byleth’s face as she walked off to grab her assigned student. 

Catherine wondered if now would be the time to try and talk to Ashe about the things she had been noticing about them, see if maybe they needed someone they could talk to. Was that even her place to approach? She had thought to leave well enough alone until Ashe came to her, but the kid seemed so down whenever anything was said that it just broke Catherine’s heart. Maybe it would be best to at least mention something. She didn’t even know if Ashe knew about her past. Most people didn’t, if they hadn’t been at the monastery for long. Her time as a student had been her awkward transitionary period, going from herself back in Faergus, to “Cassandra” for a brief time, before finally settling on Catherine. The rest, as they said, was history, and thankfully a history lost to many. 

She finally reached Ashe’s tent, shaking the frame gently with her hand as she spoke. 

“Hey, kid, get up. Your turn on watch.” Catherine’s words were met with tired grumbling, before the rustling of moving fabric and changing clothes could be heard and finally Ashe stepped out, buttoning the front of their jacket. 

“OK, ok, I’m awake.” Ashe said, flattening out the rather outrageous bed had that had developed over the night thus far, and looking up to see Catherine. “Well, anything to report?” Ashe asked, trying as best possible to sound professional.

“Do you think if something had gone down, you’d be hearing about it after the fact?” Catherine asked, smirk in place as they moved back to the fire. 

“Well I don’t know, It’s possible. Maybe you decided to let us all sleep in while you killed the raiding bandit horde.” Ashe joked along, adjusting the Axe on their belt. 

“Oh please, if I’m fighting a bandit horde you know damn well I’m gonna be dragging your winged ass into that shit. Gotta have a getaway plan, right? Assuming you don’t lose your balance and toss us both to our deaths.” 

“Hey! If anything, that’ll be your fault for being a sub-par Wyvern coach.” 

“Oh please, I’m a great coach. You’re going off to battle on Seteth tomorrow, aren’t you!?” 

“Yeah, yeah. That name is still weird.” Ashe replied, waving her off. Cartherine paused for a moment, and Ashe did as well. “Catherine? You good?” She didn’t reply. She tried to think of how to say what she wanted to, what she could possibly say that wouldn’t make her sound crazy if she was wrong. 

“Ashe...I just….you know if you ever need to talk about…..well…..” Catherine started, taking a deep breath and trying to collect her thoughts. She gave up on trying to address that topic, and now she needed to dig herself out of this hole she’d jumped into. “I know you’re going to do great, fighting on Seteth tomorrow. You’ve been working hard lately, and I’m...I’m proud of you. You, um, you should be proud of yourself.” 

“Thanks, Catherine.” Ashe said, smiling at the woman, a bit confused at what the last half had to do with what she’d been trying to say at first. But Ashe figured it was late, she probably was just a bit sleep deprived. “Now, stop being weird and let’s get back to the fire.” 

Catherine laughed and followed on as Ashe ran towards where Leonie and Byleth were now stood, chatting beside the campfire. 

“Hey, Catherine, you with us?” Catherine shook her head, realizing she had zoned out somewhere over the course of the morning, and looked over to see it was Jeralt talking to her. 

“Yeah, I’m fine Captain. Just lost in my own thoughts, I guess.” Catherine assured, resting her hand on Thunderbrand’s hilt. 

“Good. We don’t know what we’re going to be walking into today, so I need my best on their best.” Jeralt said, clapping her on the shoulder. Catherine laughed, trying not to visibly flinch in pain. Jeralt was old, but he was certainly not frail. 

“Thank you, Captain. I promise, I’ll be on my best out there.” 

“Oh no, I meant Byleth. I just need to make sure she isn’t more focused on watching your ass than winning the fight.” 

“Oh, of course, sir.” Catherine corrected. 

“Catherine, come on, I’m just giving you a hard time.” Jeralt assured, pulling on the reins of his horse to pull it back over to his side. Catherine looked at the large mount, the Captain’s lance protruding from a sheath on its back hip and jutting into the sky. 

“Jeralt, may I ask you something?” 

“I don’t see why not, or how I could stop you either way.” He replied. 

“Well, why did you leave the Monastery, only to become a Mercenary? Had you become some farmer, I might understand, wanting to keep yourself out of the fight, but why leave one life of combat for another just to come back?” 

Jeralt thought on that for a while as they walked. He couldn’t exactly tell her all of his suspicions around whatever Rhea had done to Byleth, nor could he quite trust her to keep it secret if he did. If his hunch was right, with how little he actually had to go on, then Catherine may not have a choice in the matter were Rhea to go prying. Goddess knows he wasn’t going to explain it with so much of the class in earshot. So, he decided to give her half the truth and pray she could forgive him later. 

“Well, I had considered leaving the Monastery for a while, as my wife and I had prepared for our first daughter, Byleth…’s older sister. When she unfortunately passed away in a fire, I decided that I just couldn’t remain there. I needed to go somewhere else, somewhere I could try to live a better life, and try to make a good life for my kid....Once Byleth had been born, of course.” Jeralt rambled on, having yet again to pull his horse back to him. 

“Then why come back?” Cahterine asked, seeing the older man struggling with the horse and wondering if she ought to help. 

“I had to do what I thought was best for my daughter, what I thought could give her a happy life.” Or any life at all really, considering how adamant Alois had been they come along. Catherine finally came to his aid, pulling the steed away from a rather overgrown crabapple tree. Once they finally returned it to the path, Catherine began dusting herself off. 

“So, what do you think? Did you make the right choice?” Jeralt chuckled, picking a bit of half chewed crabapple out of his hair and tossing it aside. 

“You know…” Jeralt looked at Catherine for a long moment, then over to Byleth, who was currently standing beside several of her students as she explained some development Dorothea had made in her training towards mixing thrown weapons with magic as they walked. By Byleth's side was, as she had been all morning, Edelgard Von Hresvelg, beaming from ear to ear as Monica trailed a few feet behind. Jeralt saw the smile on Byleth’s face as Dorothea threw a fireball-laced dagger into the base of a tree, making a large scorch mark bloom out around it. Byleth looked back, seeing the two of them looking at her, and waved, smile growing even more as she did. Jeralt and Catherine waved back before facing each other again, and Jeralt took another moment to look Catherine up and down, nodding as he did so, as if he were seeing something familiar in her. “I think I did...DAMNIT GEORGI!” Jeralt screamed as the horse attempted to wander off the trail again. Catherine grabbed the reins and together they managed to hold the horse in place. 

“Why is your horse so damned stubborn!?” 

“He’s much more obedient when in combat. It’s when he doesn’t have a rider that he gets antsy.” 

“Then why not ride him to Remire?” Catherine asked, as they continued on the path. Jeralt only laughed. 

“A commander should never ride their mount while their troops walk around them. It’s a sign of a weak leader. A commanded should always march alongside their troops, as a sign of respect, ‘wherever I lead you, we march as one’. There’s only one time when a commanded should be on the mount while others walk.” 

“When is that?” 

“Their last march home.” Jeralt said, coldly. Catherine understood the meaning. 

“I see. Well, I’m glad I never took up mounted combat then.” This made Jeralt laugh again, and Catherine figured that had certainly gone better than the door incident, so she called it a win. A bit more time, and perhaps she could actually feel comfortable around Jeralt again, instead of feeling tense at the prospect of pissing him off all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to all my rad homies and comrades who helped me put this together. I'll give my usual plug to The Unqualified 1 (She's anything but) https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1  
> And Model Omega for helping proofread today's update through my killer migraine.  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModelOmega  
> I hope you enjoyed this week’s chapter, and I’ll see y’all next week! Please comment! lemme hear your theories! What the hell is going on?! I love y’all’s feedback and it always warms my heart to talk shop.


	18. Chapter 18: Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mega Angst but also some cute? Byleth and her class take on Remire Vilalge, Byleth loses control of her emotions, the wyverns are in fact lesbians, and the Black Eagles return two fighters fewer than when they left. Byleth acts strange, to the worry of those closest to her, and Edelgard and Catherine take some time to get to know eachother as they try to find how to help the woman they both care about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Let me start off with a warning: this chapter contains references to sexual abuse that could be triggering to folks who have issues with that sort of content. There's nothing explicitely shown, but it's implied. I marked the areas with ----------- before and after, and will include a rough summary of what happened at the end note for folks who want to sitll have context for the story.
> 
> Also, hope yall enjoy this extra-big chapter! 35 fuckmothering pages of dykey wonder. Happy 5k hits tho! Holy shit, I would never have imagined people would be excited enough about this story for it to have been opened 5000 times. Thats fucking wild and I love you all. 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage
> 
> I'll give my usual plug to The Unqualified 1 (She's anything but) https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1

Chapter 18 Nightmare

After two or three more hours of walking, they finally reached Remire Village, at least what remained of it. The small community Byleth and Jeralt had left what felt like years ago was now a bloodbath, cobblestone and dirt roads filled with bodies. Those of the already dead, of people fleeing in hopes of avoiding becoming the first, and the third group appeared to be absolutely blank-eyed beasts in the guise of people, sprinting around at unnatural speed and tearing apart or dragging away anyone they could get ahold of. There appeared to be maybe 2 dozen of those Rabid Villagers, along with another few dozen dead, and perhaps thirty-some-odd fleeing or peaking out from inside their homes. 

“What happened here….” Jeralt stood, aghast at the top of the hill right outside of Remire, Catherine to one side and Byleth on the other. To Byleth’s right was Edelgard terror and rage seething out of every pore as she sat mounted on her wyvern Phlegon, a smaller and sleeker blue-scaled mount compared to the massive green beast on top of whom’s head Ashe was currently sat. 

“It’s so much more horrifying than we ever could have expected.” Edelgard said those last few words through gritted teeth, her eyes locking with ‘Monica’ as the girl merely stood there, bored. 

“These people are trapped, being hunted by their own like a pack of wolves with a rabid packmate. We must end this and save them.” Byleth said, earning a small smile from both Catherine and Edelgard. 

“The reports indicated nothing like this…They made it sound as if one or two infected were getting agitated, bar brawling types of things.This...this is a massacre.” Jeralt said, shaking his head. Edelgard didn’t know when ‘Monica’ had moved, but suddenly she was between Jeralt and Byleth, clutching the Captain’s arm like some scared child. 

“S-sir Jeralt. I’m scared...we’re going to be ok, right?” She whimpered. Edelgard thought she was surprisingly good at faking genuine emotion for such a dead, heartless creature. Jeralt patted her on the shoulder, reassuring her as he knelt down to look her in the eye. 

“We’re going to be fine, miss Monica, don’t worry. Stick by my side and I’ll make sure you’re safe.” 

“P-promise?” ‘Monica’ asked, and Edelgard felt her stomach drop. She dropped off of Phlegon and walked over, grabbing the girl under her arm. 

“Monica, I’m sure Captain Jeralt has more important tasks. I will ensure your safety. You have my word, not one of these things will touch you.” Edelgard said, the look in her eyes making it clear, she made no claims she would not slit the woman's throat ear to ear at the first opportunity. 

“Oh, it’s no bother, Lady Hresvelg. I will watch after you all, as will Catherine and Byleth.” 

“What are we, sir, chopped liver?” Fredrique asked. 

“You’re just a pain in the ass.” Catherine muttered, waving the red head off. 

“Wait, professor…” Ferdinand began, pointing to a small group standing in the distance, on the far side of the village. “Look there! Someone, just standing and watching this carnage!” 

“Is that Thomas, the Librarian?” Ashe asked, squinting in the distance.

“Who?” Leonie, Caspar and Catherine asked in unison as the others all looked over to them in various looks of ‘what the hell’. 

“Have you all...really not been to the Library? Ever?” Linhardt asked, a look of utter horror on his face as Caspar shook his head no. 

“That is not a question for right now.” Hubert lamented. “We need a plan and to get moving, or else we will only make the casualties worse!” 

“We need to try and save the people who are still alive.” Edelgard muttered, trying to think. Phlegon nudged her slightly with her head. “Not now, Phlegon. Down, girl.” The wyvern looked disappointed, but rested on the ground, following her order. 

“I agree. Saving the civilians should be top priority.” Jeralt nodded, looking at the scattered groups. Catherine looked over to see Byleth’s gaze bouncing between Edelgard, Ashe, Petra, and their wyverns. 

“Byleth, what do you think?” Catherine asked. 

“I think I have a plan.” Byleth said, sliding her gauntlet into place.

After breaking down into groups, the party launched themselves to action. The first group, consisting of Edelgard, Ashe, and Petra, went over the village walls and began sweeping through the village, grabbing anyone and everyone they could from the ground and various buildings before flying them back out. Meanwhile, the main bulk of their class would be focused on charging the main gate before splitting into two groups, one going to the west, the other to the east, drawing the Rabid Villagers away from the ones in need of rescue as best they could before meeting at the group of watching strangers. Or at least, watchers who were strangers to everyone but Edelgard. She knew Solon, or “Thomas” as they called him, much too well. The record of their familiarity was etched into every inch of her skin in the long jagged scars she still had. She despised this plan, being left completely unable to watch over Kronya and whatever sick plot she had in mind was the last thing she wanted. But, she didn’t have a say in the matter, and there were people she had to save. As long as Jeralt stayed near the rest of the group, he’d be safe. 

She’d already grabbed almost half a dozen people off of their roofs by the time she started having to check inside of houses. She dropped to the ground outside of a small home, two of the Rabid were pounding at its door as the house slowly burned, screams of fear audible from inside. The moment her feet touched the ground, the two Rabid turned to face her. Phlegon dropped on top of one, grabbing him in her claws and lifting to the sky before dropping the man with a loud splat onto the ground. The surviving Rabid charged at her, his hands moving fast as lightning as he tried to strike her, but thankfully he was still no more than a villager. She ducked underneath his sloppy strike, swinging her axe up from beneath him and slamming it into his stomach. She knocked it off of her blade with her shoulder and watched it fall to the ground. It was still trying to stand up as she buried her axe into his skull. Edelgard smashed her shoulder into the door, trying to force it open but only managing to stumble back, grunting in pain. How in the world did her Professor do that with such ease?! No matter, a rock through the window made an easy enough portal in, and soon Edelgard was crawling into the building, calling out. 

“Hello! I’m here to help!” The screams seemed to come from everywhere around her and nowhere. She yelled around as more and more smoke filled her lungs, but there was no reply. Her eyes were watering so badly it was making it hard to see. The house shouldn’t be this smokey based on the fire she could see outside.She looked, trying to find someone, anyone, but no one was there. Not in the main room, or the kitchen. 

She finally moved back, seeing the most smoke pouring out of the bedroom, and there, she found the source of the screaming. There must have been at least ten of them. Three women, two men, and several children of various sizes. She could see them grouped together in a single large mass, and she knew they were the source of the screaming that now felt loud enough to make her ears bleed. She didn’t know how, they were all obviously dead, tied together with what looked to be the burning remains of roughspun rope, likely from a barn. 

Their skin was charred and split, boiling blood and other strange fluids pouring out wherever it could. The screaming grew louder in Edelgard’s ears, and she could swear the mass was moving, writhing, as if it were some sort of living creature. It was morphing and shifting itself more and more with every second she watched. She didn't know how long she stood there, watching the screaming, long-dead mass of burning flesh, but finally she heard a loud roaring war cry, and the splattering of a skull on stone. That noise broke her loose from the trance, and she felt as if she might have moved closer to the mass than she had remembere. Perhaps it had moved closer to her. Either way, she fled from the building, finding another warped, twisted mass of burning bodies pressed against the front door. This one was different, however, it had one person draped over top of the others, not tied down, but simply laid on top, as if it were relaxing in the flames. That second group explained how none of those things had been able to break their way in. She swore she saw something reach for her as she moved past the second mass, crawling onto the table and out the window she had broken. 

She fell onto the ground outside of the house, coughing violently, her lungs full of smoke. She turned onto her stomach, pushing up as she heard footsteps moving towards her. Perhaps it was another Rabid. She didn’t care, let it come. She wasn’t scared, not of them, nor the flesh burning and writhing behind that door. Nothing had truly scared her since her family, that dungeon, those experiments. How could it? 

“Princess!” Oh goddess, it was worse than a Rabid, it was Catherine. The woman grabbed up under her arm, hefting her with almost insulting ease. “Come on, you aren’t dying on me now.” 

“I’m not dying!” Edelgard coughed out, grabbing her axe from the ground. “Just give me a moment.” Another war cry, and suddenly there was Byleth, charging a Rabid head on and grabbing it as she slammed into it’s stomach with her shoulder, driving it backward between Edelgard and Catherine.

Byleth smashed the Rabid between her and the wall, and Edelgard could swear she heard wood cracking before some smoke started ebbing out of parts of the door frame. Unbelievable. She pulled back and smashed her steel gauntlet into the pinned Rabid’s forehead, dazing it and giving her time to throw a second punch, and a third, and a fourth after that. When one of the Rabid’s eyes popped out of it’s head, Byleth took it as a sign she could stop and let the dead thing fall to the ground. She turned to the two other women, her face covered in blood. 

“We need to move.” Byleth stated, panting just a bit as she pointed south towards ‘Tomas’. 

“Where’s your dad?” Catherine asked, hefting Thunderbrand up. 

“He said to go on ahead and he would catch up. Apparently Monika ran off screaming in terror, and he had to go chase her down.” Edelgard’s blood ran cold. 

“What?!” She screamed, standing up so fast it made her lightheaded. 

“Woah, Princess, calm down. He’ll be fine. There shouldn’t be too many down that route, we just came from there. Jeralt is old but he’s more than capable of taking care of himself” Catherine assured, but Edelgard wasn’t listening. Catherine turned to Byleth and held a finger up. “Do not tell your father I called him old. I don’t need to be any higher on his shit list than I already am.” Byleth rolled her eyes. 

“Where did they go?”Edelgard asked; Byleth pointed down a small side street half a block behind her. Before they could say a word Edelgard was running down it, the two women quickly moving to ensure she wasn’t going alone. Phlegon soared above them, following as close as she could. 

“Monika!” Jeralt yelled, trying to find the girl as he walked down the small trail of homes. He had had to abandon his mount a ways up, as the path and gaps between buildings grew almost too small even for him to fit through. But now, he could hear distant sobbing, and knew he must be drawing close. “Monika, where are you!? It’s ok, kiddo, I’m here to help!” Finally, he rounded a corner and saw Monika at the end of the path, standing in the center of a ring of five or six houses. She was sobbing but her posture was off. She looked almost bored, and yet the sobbing sounded so genuine. It set Jeralt even more on edge. “Monika, listen kiddo, we need to get back to the group, now.” Jeralt said, lance at the ready. 

“Oh, you foolish old man.” Monika said, turning to face him and showing both her bright red eyes literally glowing in glee. “You’re not going back.” The doors to the houses around him seemed to almost explode open, and nearly a dozen if not two dozen Rabid poured out towards him. 

Leonie dropped into a roll, escaping the grasp of one of the Rabid as she did so and popping up into a firing stance, her bow at the ready. That same Rabid she’d just escaped charged her again and she pulled the string back, letting an arrow fly into its skull with a heavy twang. Another Rabid smashed it’s way out of a burning building, looking her dead in the eye and moving to attack her. She had just enough time to put her bow over her shoulder and slide her short spear out, sweeping the Rabid’s legs out from beneath it and burying the tip of her weapon into its chest, the heavy thud of the blow followed by a slow, gurgled choking, and a few seconds later the distant sound of Jeralt calling for help. She pulled her spear free and ran in the direction she’d heard the sound. She wouldn’t lose Jeralt. 

Ashe saw Seteth drop yet another Rabid from the sky, and while watching the feral villager fall and splatter onto the ground she noticed Leonie moving. A second later the sound of Jeralt screaming finally reached her ears, and she quickly wrapped her free arm in the reigns tied to either side of Seteth’s head, leaning over and tugging as she felt her wyvern move to follow her classmate. She had already helped at least a dozen people get to freedom, she could take a moment to help. 

After a short while, Leonie found Jeralt’s horse tied to a house, and quickly slipped through the path herself. However now she couldn’t figure out where the sound had come from when she reached the next part of the road, half leading north the other father east. 

“LEONIE! GO NORTH!” Ashe screamed down, but Leonie only looked confused. 

“WHAT?!” She screamed back , unable to hear.

“NORTH!” 

“WHAT?!?!” Leonie screamed again. 

“Oh goddess’s mercy, this isn’t going anywhere. Seteth! Drop!” And with that the wyvern pulled her wings in, sending the two careening to the ground. Leonie wondered what the hell Ashe was doing, until the monstrous wyvern spread its wings at the last second and managed to land with little more than a loud ‘thud’. Ashe slid a bit, the force of the landing having knocked her foot loose of the stirrup and nearly knocking her off, but once she straightened herself she offered her hand. “Get on.” 

“Yes, sir.” Leonie teased, giving a mock salute before grabbing Ashe’s hand and climbing up. The duo quickly moved towards where Ashe had seen Jeralt in the street before, until finally the two of them drew close enough for Leonie to see the mass of Rabid around him. 

“Oh goddess, he needs help!” Leonie said, pulling an arrow from her quiver. “Ashe, drop me nearby.” 

“You got it.” Quickly enough, Ashe dropped her a safe enough distance away that she wouldn’t be mobbed by the Rabid instantly, and while Leonie moved to help Jeralt, Ashe pulled on Seteth’s reins, goading the wyvern up and toward the battle. Seteth’s wings flapped, sending them skyward before descending down towards the horde of Rabid, one of which dropped to an arrow from Leonie as another took Ashe’s axe to it’s skull and a third happened to get caught in Seteth’s powerful jaws, cracking in half at the spine before the top half was audibly swallowed. Seteth may be terrifying, but Ashe would be damned before she’d say she didn’t adore her. 

Jeralt turned to see Ashe and Leonie as they charged to his aid, a tired grin growing on his face as he ducked out of one assailant’s reach, slicing the back of it’s knee with the blade of his lance and watching the beast drop to a kneel as he smashed his elbow into its head. He slammed another oncoming attacker’s nose with the butt of his lance, and buried his blade into the stomach of another rabid before returning to the still-disoriented assailant and tearing into his target’s throat like a knife through butter with the end of his lance. The reach of his weapon had given him a rather necessary advantage, but he was starting to tire and that wasn’t good.  
Ashe slid just a bit too far in her saddle as she swung out, her axe tearing into a Rabid Villager’s stomach and pulling him up with them as Seteth moved skyward. Leonie saw another moving toward her, just a bit too close to give her enough time to draw and fire an arrow. She decided to go another route, spreading her stance and waiting just a second before dodging out of its path, swinging her bow like a club and knocking out the Rabid’s feet, giving her plenty of time to draw, knock, and fire an arrow directly into the back of it’s head. 

The trio was surprisingly effective, given their numbers compared to the nearly two dozen enemies around them, but no matter how many they seemed to kill the group never became smaller. It was as if someone had ordered the Rabid to flock here, and every one they killed another few took their place. Even young warriors grow tired, and after several minutes of fighting Ashe could feel the fact that her body was utterly coated in sweat. The strain of flight and combat was taking its toll on her. Even her hands were rather sweaty, perhaps that is why things happened the way they did. 

Seteth dropped down, just a bit faster than the time before, and when Ashe swung as the wyvern extended her wings and sent them on an up-curve, the jostling sent her weapon flying into the distance. The loss of that weight threw her entire balance off, and suddenly Ashe felt herself slipping off of Seteth’s neck, holding on to the reins for just a second before finally slipping loose and plummeting to the ground below. Leonie looked in absolute horror as Ashe began careening downward. 

Thankfully, although whether they should be truly thankful was up for debate, there was a building in the way, and Ashe slammed through the roof breaking the initial force of the fall. Leonie prayed that was enough to keep her friend alive. If it was, then Ashe likely wouldn’t be for much longer, she realized. A small flock of Rabid that had been moving towards Jeralt now moved into the building Ashe had just fallen into. Leonie knew whoever she picked, the other was certain not to last long, but she wasn’t one to dwell on doubt, and Jeralt could fight still while Ashe was likely unconscious. She was already moving when Jeralt turned to her, telling her to go help her comrade. When she heard that, she moved even faster. Doubt was her enemy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw three figures round the corner she had run in from. She ignored them however, burying her own lance into a Rabid’s back as she charged into the house. The tearing of it’s flesh as she slammed through the door covered up the scream of pain that came from behind her. 

Byleth, Edelgard and Catherine rounded the corner into the large circle of homes, and to Edelgard’s relief Jeralt was still standing, surrounded by what must have been two or three dozen Rabid corpses if not more. She saw Leonie sprinting, lance at the ready into a home off to the side, and Ashe’s wyvern was tearing at a small group of Rabid that seemed to be trying to break into that same building. Seteth had two of them in her jaws, her head bobbing up and down as she smashed them into the cobblestone below her, knocking another one away with a powerful wing. Phlegon swooped in to join her, and slammed down with all her weight onto three Rabid, crushing them. 

Phlegon quickly scampered over toward Seteth, who was in the process of tearing a rabid out of the building through a large hole in the wall it appeared she had in fact made, and when the larger mount had successfully torn out and butchered it, Phlegon took the time to lean in, dragging her forked tongue along a gash where it appeared one of them had been able to land a hit, earning a pleasant ‘hmmf’ from Seteth as the wound was cleaned.Catherine, Edelgard and Byleth moved towards Jeralt to help with the small pack of surviving Rabid around him, and all three of them saw Monika, knife drawn, moving toward his back. It didn’t feel real at first. 

Monica almost seemed to skip, as if readying to play hopscotch, up to Jeralt. When she reached him, it was not to come to his aid, but to in fact jam her knife into the back of his knee, sending him to the ground as she slowly backed away, her eyes full of sick glee as they watched the Rabid overtake him, tearing into him as his screams filled the pavilion. But still, all three heard the words from Monika’s mouth. 

“The Flame Emperor sends his greetings.” She stared at Edelgard for one long second as her lips crawled into a sick twisted smile with too many teeth. With that, she disappeared, not in a red flash, but white. 

The next few seconds were a blur to Byleth as they slaughtered the Rabid that had overtaken Jeralt, leaving them all a mangled pile of bloodied flesh. Byleth grabbed one by its hair, using the grip to slam its head into the pavement until its skull had opened and was left empty. Another one ran towards her, actually landing a strike across her face that barely seemed to phase her. She grabbed it’s wrist as it tried a follow up strike, and broke the limb at the elbow with a single solid punch. She grabbed it by the chin, snapping its neck like it was a twig. Those however were the only ones she remembered in the haze of blood and tears. The next thing that Byleth knew, she was knelt over her own dying father as he struggled for his last breaths. She held him tight against her. His abdomen was torn open and one of his legs was left mangled beyond comprehension. She could feel his blood saturating the fabric of her tunic. Catherine was knelt across from her, and Edelgard stood at his feet. 

As Byleth sat there, weeping over a man she felt like she only barely knew, she felt a hand against her face, and saw her father smiling weekly up at her, trying to speak through weak, shuddering breaths as his thumb brushed away a tear. 

“D-D-Don’t cry for me, Kiddo. Let me see you smile.” His thumb seemed to prod at the corner of her mouth, as if trying to push it up. “I s-s-spent so long w-wondering what it would l-look like if you were happy...d-d-don’t let the last thing I see be me m-making you cry.” It sounded like he was begging her, pleading for some final mercy. Byleth tried her best, tears still pouring down as she looked at her father, her lips pulled into a tight smile that never met her eyes. She could see the light leaving him as he spoke his final words. “There she is.There’s my B-Byleth. There’s my little girl.” With that, he went limp in her hands. Byleth sobbed weakly to herself, pleading in desperate, unintelligible whispers. 

“Sothis, please….please. Don’t make me stay here...not with this...not like this. He can’t die like this. I can’t. I can’t lose him. I...I can’t lose him...please….” But there was nothing. No time shattering, no forced movement, no opportunity to try again to save her father, just more blood soaking her clothes.“Please... I just want my dad.” 

He was dead. She couldn’t save him, couldn’t turn back the clock to give him another chance, and because of that he was dead. She had failed him. Failed to protect him as he had protected her all these years. Jeralt Eisner, The Blade Breaker, Captain of the Knights of Seiros and leader of one of the most feared mercenary brigade in Fodlan, died in his daughter's arms at the hands of a little girl and a pack of rabid villagers. It was an insulting death for a man so honored as him. 

Edelgard, at some point over the long gap of silence, walked away from the others, her own shoulders trembling with suppressed sobs. Catherine stood, walking over to Byleth and kneeling down beside her. 

“Letty, baby, I’m so sorry...” Catherine didn’t know what else to say. What else could she say? She reached up, resting one hand on her partner’s shoulder while the other moved further up, cupping Byleth’s chin and turning her head slightly, brushing a tear away. “We’re going to get her Byleth, I promise.” But the eyes that looked back at her were empty. The lively cobalt blue she had lost herself in so many times before now felt like staring into stagnant water. Her partner’s eyes looked more dead than the man laid out before them. Byleth jerked her chin out of Catherine’s touch and back toward her father. 

Catherine had no idea how to respond to that, and found herself standing and walking away. She figured Byleth needed space, and thought maybe she should check on Princess. She walked over to the stoop of one of the several houses whose front doors were smashed open, where the young woman was sitting, staring at her Professor and Jeralt. Catherine sat beside her on the stoop, elbows rested on her knees as she tried to think of what to say. Thankfully, she didn’t have to speak first. 

“I swear, I didn’t know.” She said weakly through shuddering breaths, looking at Byleth. She turned to face Catherine, and where Catherine had expected sadness, she saw overwhelming rage. Sadness was there, but buried deep. “I can’t believe that damned monster did something like that! She used me!” Edelgard slammed her fist on the stoop, cracking the wood beneath her fist as Catherine noticed tears welling in her eyes. “What do I even say? How, how do I apologize for something like this?” She broke out into a short burst of sobs, trying to push them down and rein her emotions back in, to little success. Catherine moved closer to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s ok, Edelgard. Just give Letty some space right now. You’re ok, none of us knew Monica had that in her, that she was working for that bastard. We’ll find him, and make him pay. I promise. Just don’t beat yourself up.” She said quietly. Edelgard, for just a moment, let herself be weak as she began to cry into the cream colored fabric of Catherine’s half cape. 

After some time, the other students, as well as Joseph and Fredrique, followed the trail of remaining Rabid and corpses until they found them. 

“Professor…” Hubert began, horror evident in his voice. “I’m...” Byleth stood, laying her father on the ground before pulling her gauntlets into place. 

“Are the civilians safe?” 

“Yes ma’am.” Hubert reported. “All survivors were escorted out.” 

“Tomas...is he still watching?” 

“Yes ma’am. As far as we know, he and the death knight are still in the village.” 

“...that one too.” Byleth muttered, and the student’s recognized that tone well. This was not the professor of the past few months, the one who had brought Catherine into their ranks, shared dinner with them, no, this was the professor they had met that first day of class, the professor they had seen on that first mission in the ravine, this was the Ashen Demon. “We are going to kill them. All of them.” Byleth’s voice was flat, dead, unwavering as she stated their intent. No one dared raise a word against it. “Edelgard, Catherine, watch him. Please. Have Leonie and Ashe help when they return.” 

“Are you sure?” Catherine asked. Byleth didn’t reply, simply turning on her heel and marching back the way they had come. The rest of the class followed her. Joseph and Fredrique looked to Catherine, a question in their eyes, and she waved them along. After a moment they followed the class. 

A Rabid sprinted around a corner as Byleth marched the Black Eagle’s through the center of the town, much of it now engulfed in flames. She moved as if possessed, ducking it’s swing and smashing her fist into its stomach and grabbing it by the throat. Ger grip tightened until she felt bone crack, cartilage crunch, and flesh tear. Blood dripped down her arm as she dropped the corpse to the ground, marching forward toward Tomas and the several armored knights around him that moved to intercept the class.

An axe wielder charged toward Byleth, weapon at the ready, but fell to a burning dagger that had been flung at him by Dorothea before he ever got near. He was soon engulfed in flames, screaming and clawing at his armor as he collapsed on the ground, cooking in the steel suit only for an arrow from Bernadetta to lodge in his throat and end it quickly. Linhardt had to leap backward, out of the swing of a knight’s blade, but sadly he was just a moment too slow, and the sound of tearing fabric and flesh filled the air as one of his sleeves began to quickly stain with blood. Linhardt cradled the limb, thankfully still attached, and was preparing a Thoron blast to bore a tunnel through the knight’s chest when Caspar charged into his target, slamming him against a nearby house before swinging his axe around, lopping off the bastard's head. He was getting quite good at decapitation. 

Byleth grabbed one man by his collar as he fumbled with his bow, slamming her head forward against his own, cracking his skull. Another headbut, and yet again the crack of breaking skull. One last one, and blood leaked down the armored man’s face as Byleth threw his corpse to the ground. She turned, ready to charge her next opponent, but barely managed to get her gauntlets up in time to stop the oncoming axe strike from cutting her head clean off. However, it did throw her into the trunk of a massive oak tree. 

Damnit. She’d let herself get sloppy. 

The knight wielding the axe swung for her abdomen, and Byleth was only able to avoid it by throwing herself on the ground. As she moved to try and stand up, the sound of an arrow connecting with flesh rang out behind her, and by the time Byleth heard the rumbling, Joseph had already closed the distance between himself and the freshly-shot knight, smashing the unmarked steel helmet in with a single swing of his warhammer. 

“Sorry we were late for class, teach.” Fredrique said, knocking another arrow on his bowstring, the fletching identical to that of the arrow jutting out of the now-dead knight’s abdomen. “Promise not to give us detention since we saved your life?” 

“Reekee, I swear, is now really the time?” Joseph asked, walking over to Byleth and offering a hand. Byleth took it. “I’m sorry about him, ma’am. He’s cuter than he is smart.” 

“Hey!” Fredrique said, offended and a bit confused. Byleth ignored them both, moving to approach the only remaining target in her line of sight. Tomas. 

“Ah, so you’re the Professor I’ve heard oh-so-much about! I expected more.” Tomas said, disappointed. “I had hoped perhaps you would be someone fun to experiment on, but I have seen plenty of you brutes die. I could learn little from you.” Tomas cracked his neck to the side, rolling his head unnaturally far back and around. By the time his head was back to a natural angle, his skin had gone pale, his eyes pitch black, and his pupils looked like stars burning in the empty cold void of space. “Not like that pretty little thing, Flayn.” Byleth grit her teeth at the way this monster mentioned that girl. “No, her blood was wonderfully useful, and her screams were most informative. Hehehe, I shall tell you a secret few insignificant rats like yourself have had the grace to know, beast. The name of the one about to end your wretched life! I am…”

Byleth cut him off, stepping towards him silently and without hesitation as she heard the clang of armor on horseback. She sped up, charging to smash her fist into the smug old monster’s head, but found her path cut off by the armored visage of the Death Knight, her body bouncing off the front of his mount and into the dirt before him. 

“Solon, there is need of you elsewhere.” The death knight declared as Byleth stood. “I shall end this one.” 

“Ah, seems our time is cut short, beast. It is well enough, we have what we came for.” Yet another white flash, but all Byleth could see was red. She sprinted forward, almost dodging out of the way of the Knight’s scythe, biting her tongue through the pain as she felt the blade drag along her back, thankfully not too deep. She kept moving, yanking the shortsword from her belt and dragging it along the underside of the horse as she slid beneath it. She came out on the other side, covered in blood as the beast’s intestines fell out. The steed dropped to the ground, but the knight landed on his feet, weapon at the ready. 

“I had thought you might have use of your blade, yet you still run with daggers and metal fists. It is a waste to kill you, but I will waste it nonetheless and feed my blade your flesh!” The metallic scream of his voice rang as he swung his scythe out, the tip catching on her cheek , a long gash tore open across her face before the blunt back of the sythe smashed into her jaw, sending her flying. 

Petra swooped down from her perch in the sky, launching an arrow at the armored man that managed to land right in the gap of his shoulder armor. Byleth stood and ran, her rage seething as she threw caution to the wind, hoping to use that distraction to her advantage, but it was as if it had not phased him at all. She felt the handle of his scythe smash into her stomach and were it not for Petra grabbing her, the follow up swing may have cleaved Byleth in half. Instead, she was dragged into the sky by the collar of her own tunic, and thrown back onto the ground a few dozen yards away.

Caspar ran forward, axe at the ready, and the Death Knight knocked him aside with the back of his hand. The spell that Linhardt sent out didn’t even seem to phase the armored beast, as with a wave of his hand a black beam of similar style shot back, sending Linhardt to the ground. Joseph ran, hefting his hammer and slamming it down onto the Death Knight, but the scythe swung out, reposting the hammerstrike as if it were a light blade. A swift kick to his stomach, and Joseph was flung back. 

“Babe!” Fredrique screamed, lining up two arrows on his bow string and sending them flying. The knight caught one, and the other landed in his shoulder with, again, no reaction. 

“Your blood is not what I crave. I tire of you.” He said. Another white flash, and then it was just them. Byleth, who had been charging up from behind to strike him again, tripped at the loss of her target and yet again was sent sprawling into the dirt. 

The class walked back to the spot where Catherine, Edelgard, a still-unconscious Ashe and an exhausted, blood splattered Leonie watched over Jeralt’s body. Phlegon and Seteth were laid out on the cobblestone a few yards away Seteth’s neck draped over Phlegon’s back as if she were a pillow. 

“Leonie, Edelgard, the rest of your class is searching the remaining buildings for any potential survivors or anything to help find out more about this ‘Solon’ and the Flame Emperor. Join them. Now.” Byleth ordered. Neither argued, and soon enough Edelgard and Hubert walked off together, away from the rest of the class. 

Catherine stood, moving to Byleth. 

“Babe, I’m so sorry. Please don’t….” But Byleth walked past her, instead falling to her knees in front of Jeralt, saying nothing. Catherine didn’t know what to do, instead opting to walk away and help Leonie search. 

Byleth was unsure how long passed before the familiar crack of teleportation came from behind her. 

“Flame Emperor.” Byleth said, hearing the person behind her stiffen a bit. 

“How did you know?” He asked, his voice coming out with that same familiar metallic ring. 

“Your friend made it seem rather obvious you were involved. I figured you’d show your face eventually.” Byleth said slowly, too calmly for Edelgard’s taste. 

“You have to believe me. Those things are not my friends. We share a common enemy, but I do not stand by what they have done here. Not to this village, nor to your father…If you join me, I can prove it to you. Fight by my side, stand with me against the foe I share with them, and we can purge them from this world as well. Will you join me?” Edelgard’s voice cracked as she begged the goddess that Byleth would say yes and fight by her side, as she had promised she would.  
“Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.” Byleth said, standing slowly, her back still to the Flame Emperor. Had it been anyone else, this may seem like a sign of trust, but Edelgard felt as if it was some slight. Either an accusation that she would strike, attack her at her weakest, or perhaps challenging her to do just that, a sign that Byleth held no fear of her, saw her as weak. 

“Fair enough.” Flame Emperor responded, perhaps there was still hope. 

“Do you bleed?” Byleth asked, her hand on her belt. 

“Yes. I am not some phantom under this armor. I am a person. A real person, not a monster like Solon or his ilk.” 

“That’s good.Very good. Now, I am a woman of my word.” Byleth said, her tone empty and dead, beyond even how she’d been when they’d first met. She began raising her hand, fingers still wrapped around the handle of her shortsword as she turned to face the Flame Emperor. Edelgard saw the visage of a woman possessed, her eyes filled with a blind and seething rage. The shortsword was clutched in her hand, and she stepped forward as Hubert sat ready with a teleportation spell.“I’ll give you your answer when I carve it into your fucking flesh!” Byleth finally let her emotion seep through as she leapt forward, only for Flame Emperor to disappear in a loud crack, leaving Byleth to fall onto the ground in a heap. She lay there, staring expressionlessly at the sky as it began to rain, the short sword still clutched in her hand. 

Hubert held Edelgard close, still in her Flame Emperor Regalia as she cried, pushed beyond even her greatest breaking point. They sat in the remains of a burned out home on the opposite edge of the village. 

He had known this damned plan wouldn’t work. He had known that now was not the time to approach the professor and try to win her to their side, but Edelgard had been adamant. He knew why, he’d have to be an idiot not to. This had nothing to do with their struggle, this was about her affection for the brawler. She couldn’t stand the thought of that woman hating her, even if it was through the mask of the Flame Emperor. She needed to try and apologize, to make things right, to convince Byleth this wasn’t her doing. But it had only made it worse. 

Now, here she lay, sobbing into his lapel on the bloodstained and burned wood floors of some village hut, as he held her in an iron tight hug. This woman was the closest he had ever had to a sister, and she was sobbing, hurt, yet there was nothing he could do to help her but be there. 

That damned woman! He ought to poison her for the pain she had caused Lady Edelgard, and with something painful at that, but he knew that would only make the matter worse. She loved the Professor, as incapable of expressing it as it seemed she was. He’d seen that early on and thought it might go away, but now here she was, heartbroken over a damned buffoon. He supposed he could not hold that against her, considering how it seemed he had done similar with that damned fool Ferdinand. 

He had held out some hope for the professor and Edelgard, for a short while at least. Those few short weeks where he had seen Edelgard the happiest she’d been in years, those weeks after the raid on the catacombs, where she and the Professor grew so close before Kronya’s damned arrival. That had been the moment he had stopped utterly despising the woman most, and yet now he felt as if he could not imagine a torture brutal enough to even the cosmic score for the damage she had wrought on Edelgard’s heart.

In a way he supposed he could not blame her. The loss of a father was...much to deal with. But, in another way he could not pity her. He had ended his own father when he’d been made aware of the man’s role in the coup that led to Lady Edelgard’s torment and the slow collapse of the Hresvelg bloodline. The man’s blood had stained his hands for so long he’d taken to wearing gloves to cover it. Not literally to cover blood, of course, he knew a myriad of ways to clean that sort of mess, but to cover the memories of where that blood had been. Where he had scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed his own hands until where his father’s blood ended and the bleeding of his raw hands began was indistinguishable. Lady Edelgard wore her gloves to cover that which had been done to her, he wore his to cover what he had done for her, if to no one but himself. 

It had been barely noon when they’d arrived at Remire, and it was just about 3 when they left. Jeralt’s body was laid out of a stretcher Ashe and Leonie had managed to cobble together from branches and a few repurposed lances, and that stretcher was then crudely tied to his horse. They marched for several hours, well past the campsite they had used the night before, until the sun was beginning to set. The entire time, Byleth never spoke a word. She didn’t cry, as Catherine, Edelgard, Leonie, and Joseph did. She didn’t swap stories about Jeralt’s adventures, as Fredrique, Ferdinand, Caspar and, again, Leonie did, she simply stared ahead, hand on her sword, as if at any moment she expected Flame Emperor to leap from the woods. 

Finally, when it was well and truly dark, Catherine spoke up. 

“Letty, we should call it for the night.” 

“You all may do as you wish. I am taking Jeralt home.” Byleth said, grabbing the reins of the horse and guiding it onward. Edelgard moved past Catherine, following the professor. Hubert followed Edelgard, Ferdinand followed Hubert, Petra, Dorothea, and Berndaetta followed Ferdinand, and so on until Catherine was at the back of the line, and Joseph was clapping her on the shoulder. 

“Looks like you’ve been outvoted. We carry on.” Joseph said. 

“That ain’t what Jeralt would want.” Fredrique mumbled. 

“Shut up, Fredrique.” Catherine said, pushing forward. 

It was nearly dawn by the time they reached the southern gate of Garreg Mach. The guard on duty swung the gates open before they’d even reached them, seeing Jeralt as he was. The Black Eagles were greeted by what few staff and students were awake at this hour. Flayn and Mercedes, strangely, were the first to reach them, having been out for a walk that morning. Mercedes looked in utter grief at Jeralt, while Flayn threw her arms around Byleth’s midsection without a moment's hesitation. 

“Professor…I am sorry for your loss.” She said. Byleth didn’t react. She didn’t hug back, nor push the girl away, not even stiffen. It was as if she didn’t even notice Flayn was there. Eventually, the young woman stepped back, and Byleth walked the horse forward. Catherine put her hand on Flayn's shoulder, whispering to her. 

“Don’t let it get to you. She’s...dealing with a lot.” Flayn nodded, and her and Mercedes walked away, the taller woman’s arm draped over her companion’s shoulder as she tried to comfort her. Catherine split away and went to the guard office, gathering several men to come collect the body and carry him to the morgue.Manuela saw them carrying the remains of Jeralt as she came, hastily dressed, down from her own office. She broke into sobs there in the hallway as she realized what she was seeing. She couldn’t believe it was true, and yet there it was. He was dead. He’d given her his word, and yet there he was, dead. 

Byleth didn’t pay much attention to the next few hours. She wasn’t able to. Exhaustion caught up with her, and she was running on instinct more than anything. The next thing she consciously remembered was leaving the Audience Chamber amd the Archbishop, having just given her full report before walking to Jeralt’s office, the door had been left unlocked. She slammed the door shut, locking it tight and spent the rest of that morning, afternoon, and most of the evening asleep on his couch. She did not cry or rage. No, she did nothing at all. She felt nothing at all. 

That night, when she finally awoke and managed to maintain some kind of consciousness, she remembered the promise Jeralt had made her make in this same room and began searching. She poured over the bookshelves, tearing through the volumes and texts without finding anything worth a damn. Next, she pulled open his desk, rummaging around through the folders and files trying to find whatever it was her father had meant for her to find. The files seemed unorganized and messy, which seemed unusual for Jeralt. Several seemed like they had been dumped out into the drawer. She found nothing. She poured over every nook and cranny of the room, and nothing still. 

Finally, after hours of searching through the ungodly piles of paper and assorted nonsense, Byleth felt herself losing her grip on the boiling cauldron that was her insides, and collapsed into the large padded chair behind Jeralt’s desk. She tried to clamp down on the tears she felt tearing their way free of her eyes, and funneled that pain into the boiling rage that seethed just beneath it. She slammed her fists down on the desk, and heard the wood crack a bit under the blow. The next sound she heard was the flap and thud of a book falling and hitting the ground. It had come from underneath the desk, which was what concerned Byleth. She looked down and there, at her feet, was an old tome, with a strange discolored length of fabric running along its back. Byleth reached down and picked it up, her fingers brushing the strange fabric and finding it had the consistency and stickiness of old honey. When she raised the book to her nose she found it had the smell of it too. 

Byleth opened the book and found the papers inside stuck together with the same crude adhesive as it seemed the file had been hidden beneath the desk. They had, however, also been carved into, as there was a large alcove in the paper that held two things. A folder and two silver rings on a silver chain, one with a large green stone, the other with a small starburst pattern of purple gems. Jeralt and Sitri’s wedding rings. Byleth lost her grasp, for just a moment, as a single choked sob escaped her, but again she strangled the feeling down as she slipped the chain over her neck, dropping it beneath her tunic. The weight of the two rings was nothing, but it pressed on her heart like an iron weight pressed down towards the bottom of the ocean, dragging the poor bastard tied to it to a watery grave. 

Byleth looked at the name on the folder. “Catherine Charon - Knight commander of team 3”. Catherine’s first name was scrawled in a different color of ink to the rest of the heading in Jeralt’s handwriting. Below it was the scratched out remnants of a name Catherine had not used in years. Had they really not changed the name on her file since before she went by Cassandra? Had it been her father’s job to do that? She flipped the file open, only for a single slip of paper to slide out. She opened the note, and saw a few words scrawled out hastily in her father’s handwriting. “Don’t trust Rhea. Don’t trust anyone. If you’re reading this, I’m sorry and I love you.” There were no other words on the note, and she found nothing else upon searching the office again. 

Edelgard stormed into a large clearing in the woods to the north of Garreg Mach, Hubert close beside her as she fumed in rage. It was long past nightfall, and her usual uniform jacket did little to block out the cold. 

“Edelgard, we must keep our head and remain calm. It will not be long before Thales and his ilk arrive.” 

“How am I to be calm at a moment like this, Hubert?! They have certainly done away with any possibility of me holding the Professor's trust.” Edelgard lamented, running her hands through her hair as she fought the urge to pull at it. Hubert coughed a bit at the familiar gesture. 

“Why might that woman’s ‘trust’ be of so much importance for you , Flame Emperor?” Thales questioned, stepping out into the clearing, a large grin smeared across his cheeks, his razor sharp teeth on full display. Edelgard swallowed her spite, trying to hold her resolve but not risk her or Hubert’s safety. 

“Because, that woman’s strength is something like could be useful on the battlefield. A fighter like that, with the leadership experience she has, would be useful where out struggle to come to blows with the church.” Edelgard saw in Thales cold, pupiless eyes that he didn’t believe her for a second. 

“I see. Well, it could not be avoided. That doddering old fool was in charge of investigating our activities here on Monastery grounds, and while I’m nonplussed to have created such ‘damage’ to your plans for war on that old snake, the damage he could’ve done were he left to his own devices would surpass it by far.”

“So it was a matter of necessity.” Hubert mused, unimpressed with the frankly asinine excuse. 

“Absolutely. Killing a faculty member is only going to make your tasks more difficult. But that is a sacrifice I am willing to make to reach our goals.” Edelgard wanted to ask exactly whose goals he meant, but she knew the answer already. Whoever Thales meant, it did not include her. “Now, Kronya’s little addition, her ‘message’ from you, was her own choice. I neither condone it, nor shall I punish her for it, but I do hope you’re intent to continue on the path you walk behind us.” Thales gestured, as if she were meant to see some grand assembly around her as he stepped closer, just close enough to make her viscerally uncomfortable before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Or, have our paths diverged on this long weary march to war, dear niece, and you now hold goals separate from our own?” Edelgard grit her teeth, hearing the implication in his voice. 

“No, uncle. Our goals are, as ever, united.” 

“Good. That is all I needed to assure. This meeting is over, now return to your duties and let this discussion guide you to redouble your efforts.” He left off the ‘or else’ but she could read it plain as day. 

“Yes. Uncle.” Edelgard said, doing what Hubert couldn’t help but see as a rather spot-on impression of the professor’s own deadpan monotone. They walked away, pausing for a brief moment to turn and look Thales in the eye. “What were you doing in Remire. You said they would deal with a plague, and yet that was more akin to a gate to hell.” Thales still held the razor sharp smile in place as he replied. 

“Magic always comes at a cost, Flame Emperor. Your spells take from the energy around you, or even yourself, Relics are no different. Their forging takes time, and energy.” 

“So they were sacrifices.” Edelgard said quietly, gritting her teeth. Thales simply nodded.

“Yes. Sacrifices must always be made in the pursuit of victory. It is nothing to fret over.” 

“Especially when you aren’t the one that has to make them.” Edelgard whispered to herself as they continued back to the academy. Thales remained in that field for a long moment after. When the two were long gone, Kronya and Solan walked from the woods into the clearing beside him. 

“See? I told you.” Kronya mewed, proud to have proven herself before the two. 

“Silence, Kronya. Your imputent screech is bothersome.” Solon muttered. “But it does seem your observation was in fact true. The Flame Emperor’s infatuation with that thing could...pose a threat. Especially if she was intent not to merely turn its strength against the church, what little a single brawler would do against us notwithstanding.” 

“There can be no doubt. We will need to dispose of this instructor quickly.” Thales mused. “I wonder… When were you intending to release your experiments on the crest beasts within the school, Solon?”

“Ah, end of the month after next. They have been proving quite informative.” 

“Kronya, you said there was some ridiculous ceremony set in a few weeks?” 

“Yes, Thales. A ball. It’s scheduled for the end of next month and it’s all those sniveling brats are talking about.” 

“Solon, you will dispose of the beast in the aftermath of that festivity.” 

“But, my lord, that gives me less than six weeks, I would need 10, at minimum.” Thales shot the stout man a glare, and Solon heaved a sigh. “Understood, my lord. It will be done.” 

“Good. Kronya, you will oversee this. From your report, this woman is brash, easily overcome by her emotions. We will make use of that make her sloppy, so Solon may dispose of her properly.”

“Understood, Lord Thales.” 

Edelgard walked along the empty paths of Garreg Mach late that next saturday evening. She had not been able to sleep much at all the last week or so, since their return from Remire, as her dreams were now more troubled than ever. The nightmares, both of her torment at the hands of Those Who Slither, and of her Professor questioning how she ‘could be so heartless’ had both grown so much worse. Now, the dreams of the professor almost entirely consisted of her questioning, ending right as she would pull a shortsword from seemingly nowhere and strike, aiming for Edelgard’s throat. Sleep, as it seemed, was not a luxury she was afforded anymore. As such, she had retaken to her late night walks to calm her mind, and this was one of them. 

She found her mind wandering to the Professor, as it often did, and the rather strange way she had been acting as of late. Edelgard knew grief struck every person differently, and she expected her Professor would be no different, but it was the lack of reaction that seemed to strike Edelgard as the most terrifying. Even as Edelgard, Leonie, Ashe, and Caspar had prepared to take the lead on the physical training the day after they had returned, her Professor had been there, already well beyond warmed up and ready to lead the class. Catherine, while in attendance that day, seemed rather distracted and oddly enough she and the professor had yet to spar once since their last mission. Training may be the wrong word for what their non-academic days now consisted off. Torture seemed more appropriate, even given Edelgard’s personal experience with said word. 

The training was unlike even the worst of what they’d experienced before, she drove them like she was trying to work them into the ground. Their laps increased, and she would make them do push ups by the hundreds if she so much as suspected they were slacking. Their sparring matches became longer, more grueling, and she walked around to inspect and correct where she thought it was needed as they would spar. Lectures were not much better. She would stand in front of her desk, piled high with books she seemed to have ‘requisitioned’ from the library in Tomas’s absence, and would spend the day doing everything shy of literally beating them over the head with the books. 

Stealth, tactics, magic, field medicine; it didn’t matter the subject, she was adamant they learn everything they possibly could and then more. At one point, Linhardt had had the unfortunate luck of falling asleep in class, as he often did. It was customary for her Professor to have Caspar nudge him awake, or perhaps Leonie if she felt Linhardt needed to really pay attention. However, that day she simply went silent, grabbing a book from her desk, a heavy tome that looked to be on the tactics of stealth warfare, and knocked Linhardts arm out from under him, causing the poor boy to smack his head against the desk. Before he had even fully recovered, the professor shoved the book into his chest, and demanded he have a full report on the text on her desk by the following week, or else he’d spend the following sunday doing extra physical training. 

There was no cruelness in her voice when she’d given the order. There was no emotion at all in her voice, and hadn’t been since the day they returned. It seemed her Professor was gone, and the Ashen Demon was here to stay. Edelgard missed the warmth in her Professor’s voice, missed the Professor she knew. This professor seemed like a stranger. All of the emotionless disconnect she had had when they had first met, even more in fact, but without any of the things that had made her her. She’d stopped taking her meals with them, and what Edelgard wouldn’t give to have her back, even if just for those short moments. She’d sit through all of the unholy scarfing down of food her Professor had done that first night she’d dined with them if that’s what it took. Edelgard almost missed the little quirks she had loathed so much when they first met. Her bravado, her brash nature, her crass and straightforward way of speaking even if she had no idea what she was talking about. But those were all just gone, and Edelgard felt so dreadfully afraid that her Professor was well and truly gone with them. 

She thought back to the conversation she had overheard between the professor and Leonie just a day or two ago. On her way to the dormitories Edelgard had heard Leonie yelling from the Arena. She worried Leonie may have been attacked, but when she went to check there was no one there with her but the professor, in her training attire still, her face blank as Leonie screamed in it. 

“How in the world can you be so calm about all of this?! Jeralt is gone, dead, and you sit here, completely devoid of anything! Do you not care? Did Jeralt really mean so little to you that his death doesn’t phase you at all?!” Leonie shoved Byleth, and Edelgard almost expected them to fight, but the professor simply wiped off the front of her shirt and stood. 

“Are you done, Leonie?” She asked. 

“No! What is wrong with you? Do you have no idea how lucky you were?! You had that man in your life for so long, and you completely ignored him right till the end! Meanwhile, so many times in my life I needed him and had only my best guess at what he might say to guide me. Now he’s gone, and you’re acting as if it means nothing to you! You might be his daughter, but even in his death I am still better at following his teachings, you heartless bitch!” Like lightning, Byleth moved, grabbing Leonie by her shirt and pinning her to the wall. The most disturbing part wasn’t the speed, nor the ease with which she threw the woman around, but the fact that her face never moved from the empty, soulless expression she had held unbroken these past few days. 

“Do you want me to say you’re a better daughter, Leonie? Is that what you want to hear?” 

“Professor, I didn’t…” 

“Shut up. Congratulations, because you’re right. You were a better daughter to him than I ever was.But it would serve you well to set yourself some higher goals.” Byleth dropped the girl, and Leonie stepped away cautiously. “That bar was set so low I’m astounded you didn’t trip over it. Now leave.” Leonie’s jaw set, and in a moment she was storming away. Edelgard was forced to hide in the bushes to avoid being seen. 

Edelgard was torn from her thoughts and dread by the sight of light shining through the window at the top of the Black Eagle’s classroom. A small smile crept onto her face, as she dared to take it as a sign that maybe, just maybe, there was still some vestige of her Professor, that all was not completely lost. 

She walked to the door, and could hear something that made her hesitate before reaching for the handle. Crying. Not loud, pained sobbing like one might expect, but the weak, quiet gasps one makes when they’ve spent too long crying to muster anything more. She heard some scattered sniffling, and the sound of pen on paper. She didn't even think to knock as she stepped inside,finding her Professor sat at her desk, a stack of books laid open around her as she wrote on a heavy stack of paper. 

Her Professor looked up, and in an instant she saw eyes full of pain, of anger, of fear and unshed tears meet her own, only to suddenly vanish. In their place were cold, empty, blue irises of the professor that stared back at her. 

“What are you doing awake at this hour, Edelgard?” The professor asked in that same monotone. 

“I...I could ask you the same thing, Professor.” 

“I’m doing my job, preparing next week's lecture and planning your training regimens.” The professor set her pen down, and Edelgard expected her to sit back, lean in her chair and rest her feet on the desk as she often did, but instead she stayed seated upright, her hands folded on the table. “Now, what are you doing, Edelgard?” 

“I couldn’t sleep. I thought a walk might help calm my nerves.” 

“Your nightmares?” Byleth asked, and Edelgard answered with a nod. For just a moment, something flashed across her Professor’s eyes, but in an instant it was gone, like a candle flame blown out by the wind of a hurricane. “That’s...unfortunate. Return to your walk and then go back to your dormitory.” It was an order. 

“Professor, I think you should consider doing the same. It is rather late. Perhaps you could join-” 

“I will sleep when my work is done.” Byleth said coldly, returning the pen to her hand and looking down at the books before her. “Close the door on your way out.”

“Professor, please, the next week’s lecture can wait a day. You should-” Edelgard was cut off again, this time by the professor’s fist slamming into the desk, making the massive wooden structure shudder. Byleth didn’t look up from her books. 

“I will sleep when my work is done.” 

“Professor…” 

“Edelgard, I am your instructor. It is my job to ensure that you and your classmates remain alive, and to give you the training, skills and preparation necessary so you may remain that way when I am no longer beside you. I will not slack in my duties, and I will rest when I have completed my preparations.” The entire time Byleth spoke, her eyes never moved from staring into the pages of a text on healing magic, not daring to look Edelgard in the eye. She knew that lilac gaze would be the thing that broke her, and she couldn’t let that wall fall now. “I will not lose anyone else to my own failures.” 

“Professor, please you can’t blame…” Another slammed fist, and for just a moment her Professor looked up from the text, and Edelgard saw two thin trails of tears lining her face. 

“Get. Out.” It was an order, and one Edelgard dared not disobey as she left the room, leaving the door opened just a crack. Byleth gave it a moment before the sobs finally escaped her, grabbing a text from beside her and throwing it across the room, pages scattering as it smashed against the wooden door and slammed it shut. 

Catherine stood in a burning city, she was not quite sure where, but it was in cinders now, that much was certain. The very ground beneath her feet burned and she could feel it through the leather of her boots. 

Byleth could feel the flames licking at her mostly exposed legs, and in her periphery she could see that she was wearing that same, strange outfit that had haunted her dreams. Before her, bloodstained and wild-eyed, stood her partner, Catherine. What Byleth saw in her eyes was not the feral protectiveness she saw in her Cat whenever they fought alongside each other. No, this was righteous, blood curdling furry and it was aimed directly at Byleth herself. 

Thunderbrand’s grip was slick with blood in Catherine’s hands, and she saw Ashe, at least someone that looked like Ashe if a few years older, laid out on the ground, dead, not far from her. She turned from the body that she knew was her kill, and saw Byleth, her Letty, stood before her wielding a relic directly at her. Why was Letty dressed so oddly? 

Byleth’s hands wrapped around the hilt of that same damned sword, and it was only now that she realized she recognized it. The Sword of the Creator. It glowed in her hands as she held it up, ready to fight. 

“I wish you'd never shown your face at Garreg Mach. I always knew you were trouble, yet I did nothing. Time for me to correct that mistake. Prepare to meet your end!” Catherine felt her lips move, heard the words, and felt the vibration of them in her throat, but she couldn’t believe that she was saying it. She would never say that. 

Byleth felt, for once, her and the version of her in the dream stand in sync with each other as tears tore at the edges of their eyes. 

“Catherine! Please! Don’t make me do this. I know you can’t believe what is happening here is right! Don’t die for it! You can walk away from this! You said you would!” Byleth, for just a moment, saw that rage in Cat’s eyes fade, if only a bit. Catherine loosened her grip on Thunderbrand’s handle. 

“Don’t say something that isn’t true, professor. You know as well as I do this was how it had to be the moment you chose to turn your back on the church! I’ll kill all those who turn their blade on the goddess and her servants! Even you.” Catherine said through grit teeth. Byleth stood strong, sword raised as she charged forward. 

Catherine slashed the blow aside, slamming her shoulder into the professor’s chest with a heavy knee to her stomach to follow, but the feeling of a blade smashing its way into her abdomen flooded her senses before she could get another strike off. She felt the sword jerk a bit to the side, and the wet, heavy plop of her insides falling out of her body filled her ears as she fell to her knees. She managed to look up at the woman, now clearly on the verge of tears before her. 

“You broke your word… you promised me you’d walk away if she ever asked you to die for her! What else could she have been asking of you when she sent you against us?” Byleth whispered, her fingers brushing Catherine’s cheek, almost lovingly. Catherine felt the ache in her heart hurt so much worse than anything in her body could. 

“I guess I lied...Sorry to disappoint you yet again. I guess the only thing you ever thought I was good enough for was a lay and target practice.” Catherine choked ok, until suddenly her lips felt even less like her own. “Lady Rhea, my service ends here. It’s been an honor.” Why were those words coming from her mouth? They sounded almost mechanical, like she wasn’t saying them but merely paroting them. With that, Catherine fell forward, her innards and blood pooling around her as Byleth stepped over top of her, eyes growing cold and jaw setting firm. 

“I thought this could be different.” She whispered to herself, gripping the handle of the sword of the creator as if she intended to break in with her bare hands. “So many different attempts, yet nothing changes.” Byleth shook her head, the tears in her eyes drying, almost like dust on her skin as she held her hand out, reality shattering around her as that eerily, all too familiar feeling of time lurching backward seemed to encase her. 

Catherine and Byleth both woke with a start, drowning in their own cold sweat in their own beds, as the memories of the strange nightmare that plagued them both that night already began to fade from their minds. 

Edelgard sat, alone, at the gazebo in the courtyard of the Monastery, sipping on a cold cup of Bergamot tea that seemed to turn rancid in her throat. It had been just over two weeks since they had returned from their mission, and this was the second sunday in a row she had been left to drink her tea in solitude. The knocks on her Professor’s door that morning, as had been with the sunday before, went unanswered. She had barely spoken to the Professor since that late night in the classroom. Not a word outside of lecture and the occasional muttered hello in the hallways or paths of the school. The professor never returned the greeting. 

She had her mission to keep her mind occupied, and Hubert was good at keeping her engaged with that when he knew she needed the distraction. However, she had insisted both sundays she be left alone to her tea. Perhaps it was foolish of her, some faint hope that if she sat here, drinking cold tea and picking at Raspberry tarts that remained almost entirely uneaten, she might will her Professor to come back from whatever darkened pit she had fallen down. However, it was sadly not so. The sun was nearly ready to set. She picked up the dishes and the box of pastries, all untouched except for a half-nibbled one on top, and moved to the kitchen to rid herself of the remnants of another wasted day. She needed to get her head on straight. She needed to keep her mind focused on the work that had to be done to lay the path forward for her war against those who held Fodlan by the throat. She needed to prepare for every eventuality if she wanted any hope of succeeding in rescuing her motherland from the snakes who held it in their clutches.

But what she needed to do most was pay attention to her surroundings. Had she been doing that she may not have been so clumsy as to trip over a tree root, and she may have avoided throwing the dishes and pastries across the ground. Then again, had she not done that, she likely wouldn’t have caught Catherine’s attention, and the knight wouldn’t have come over to her aid. 

“Shit, Princess, you have to watch where you’re going.” Catherine said, reaching down and starting to gather up shards of broken tea cups. 

“I’m sorry, I was just lost in…Don’t call me princess.” Catherine chuckled at that, tossing the shards into the box of now very grassy pastries. 

“Whatever you say, Princess.” Edelgard groaned and finished collecting the thankfully still intact teapot as Catherine grabbed the last of the cup shards and picked up the box. “Here, let me help you toss this out. That way if you go on another trip at least you’ll only have a little broken porcelain to clean up.” 

“You are an ass.” 

“You are welcome.” Catherine laughed at the glare that earned her, until it seemed just a bit too genuine. Edelgard turned and walked away, so Catherine moved to stay close. “Hey, you ok, Edelgard?” 

“I’m fine. Nothing but a bit of grass in my uniform.” Edelgard waved her off. Catherine tossed the box into a nearby waste barrel, wiping her hands clean. 

“That’s not what I meant, and I don’t think you’re stupid enough to actually have thought it was.” Catherien said, crossing her arms as Edelgard went still. “Or was it that you thought I was stupid enough not to notice you’re in a lousy damn mood?” 

“Well, you certainly seem somewhat dim if this is how you decide to act when you know someone is having a bad day.” Edelgard said, turning the face Catherine, hands on her hips.

“Huh, I think that’s the most roundabout way I’ve ever heard someone call me an idiot. I’m impressed.” Catherine said, stepping forward and looking the girl in the eye. She easily had a head and a half on Edelgard, if not more. “Now, want to talk about it, or do you just want to continue to insult me and throw around more pastries and teaware?”

“By the goddess, you are infuriating.” Edelgard mumbled. 

“It’s one of my most lovable qualities. Come on, walk with me, talk with me.” Catherine said, walking away from her and toward the administrative building. Edelgard walked after the woman, grumbling a bit to herself as she wondered why she was following along with this. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Somewhere that’ll hopefully help you get that tree trunk out of your ass and help you relax a bit.” Catherine shot back, flashing her a grin at the redness that burned across Edelgard’s face. Irritation, that was what it was. 

“Excuse me!?” Edelgard asked in what could only be called a whispered yell. They rounded the corner and Catherine guided her up the stairs. 

“Come on Princess, the world is heavy enough, you could afford to lighten up a little bit.” Catherine said, and up another flight of stairs they went. “What’s on your mind?” 

“What do you think?” Edelgard asked, continuing before Catherine could reply. “The Professor. She’s fallen back into bad habits.” 

“How do you mean?” Catherine asked, leading them out of the stairs into the third floor of the building and up the hall. 

“Oh, that’s right, that all was before you two…before you were ‘in the picture’. The Professor was rather disconnected from us when she first joined the class. She wouldn’t eat with us, or really interact with us beyond training and lecture. She was either in her office, at the training grounds, in her room, or on the way from one to the other. She was a good enough teacher, but...she just didn’t know us. Now she’s gone right back to that.” Catherine rounded a corner that led to a small meeting room, however they walked past that door toward the one at the very far end of the hall. “I just...I’m worried that the Professor I knew is just...gone. Buried with Captain Jeralt and his wife.” 

“Morbid, Princess, very morbid.” Catherine said under her breath, grabbing the handle of the door and finding it locked. That wasn’t a surprise. It always was, but still. 

Edelgard watched as Catherine lifted the door by it’s handle, shifting it on it’s hinges as she pulled it back and then slammed it forward with her shoulder, the latch popping open, still intact. 

“How did you…” 

“Jeralt. He used that trick to break into a barrack room to kick my ass.” Catherine said, walking out onto a massive balcony that protruded out from the side of the Monastery. She guided Edelgard to the edge, lifting herself onto the stone and sitting down, patting a spot on the wall beside her. “Come on Princess, sit down, relax a little bit.” Edelgard wasn’t much for fear of heights, but even she was nervous at the steep drop that Catherine was at that moment dangling her legs over. But, she did eventually join Catherine on the ledge, figuring she had come this far, however still not sure as to why. They sat there, staring at the rolling hills past Garreg Mach and the beautiful buildings that thrust up into the sky for a long moment in a nice, comfortable quiet before Catherine continued speaking. “I know Letty has been dealing with this all pretty rough. I swear, the past few weeks I thought she was trying to kill you kids with those training schedules. But she ain’t gone or buried, she’s just… hurting.” 

“How do you know? Have you spoken to her?” Edelgard asked, hopeful that if her and Catherine were still seeing each other, maybe some shred of the Professor she’d known was still there. 

“Hell no, not outside of training. Letty has just completely shut me out, and I don’t feel like it’d be smart for me to go pushing her on it. That look she gave me in Remire, it scared me. So if it’s any consolation, it ain’t just you. Maybe you might be the best one to get through to her. Might do you some good at least, seeing how badly you’re missing her.” 

“I-I think I’m the last person who should try to talk to her about that. But I never said I was mi-” 

“You didn’t need to, Princess. I can tell you’re sweet on Byleth, and it’s not hard to read between the lines there.” Catherine said, looking over at the now red-faced Edelgard. “What? You two nearly made out in full view of Claude. How are you both so dense as to miss how word of that would spread? Although shit, I guess I can’t really talk about dense. Glass houses and all that.” 

“Sir Catherine, I..I swear it wasn’t…” Catherine cut her off yet again.

“First, cut the ‘sir’ shit. Right now. I get it, it’s from a respectful place, but I’m too damn tired to deal with that nonsense today. Second, calm the hell down, you’re all good.” 

“You...really?” Catherine nodded, laughing and shrugging a bit at the inquisitive look in Edelgard’s lilac eyes as they met her blue ones. 

“Why in the hell are you both so certain I’m gonna be some macho shithead about this? If I was going to, I would have started a long time ago. Don’t take this the wrong way, Princess, but you’ve been pretty blatantly pining for Letty for a while now.” Edelgard only grew redder. “Hey, don’t worry, you’re fine. If it’s any help, Letty seems just as useless when it comes to this shit as you are, and I hope you two work out.” 

“I….I didn’t realize something like that was common outside of Adrestia.” 

“It’s not.” Catherine said, shrugging again as she looked at the trees in the distance, swaying in the wind. “But life is too short to be weird about this kinda shit. I’ll tell you the same thing I did her, I wish you two would have handled it better so I didn’t have to hear about it from Dorothea, but, well, I figure I can call that squared away considering the little ‘whoopsie’ during me and Letty’s training session...I guess I understand better than most how easy it is to get caught up in the moment around her.” Catherine flashed that same cocky grin. 

“I...I don’t know what to say.” Edelgard said quietly, toying with her gloves as she tried to parse her emotions. 

“Don’t say anything then. Let the world melt away and enjoy a nice view.” Catherine said, pointing to the setting sun. They fell back into the quiet, comfortable silence as it continued to drop, and after a while Edelgard looked over to her, pausing for a long moment to look at Catherine, really look. 

She wasn’t like Byleth, where Edelgard had to try and parse every detail for some kind of understanding of what was going on in her head. Catherine wore her heart on her sleeve. Her slouched shoulders and rather atrocious posture showed her ‘just relax’ advice was coming from sincerity. Her lips were parted just so slightly that a bit of her teeth were visible, and the very edges of her mouth curved up into a smile that made it clear just how tired she really was. Yet she seemed as if she had not a care in the world for that moment. Edelgard quit toying with her gloves and returned her view to the horizon. 

“Thank you. I, well, I suppose I needed this.” 

“Not a problem. I find nobles make the world too complicated, sometimes you just need to step back, and breath.” Catherine said, rolling her shoulders a bit as her armor weighed on the joints. 

“I’ll admit, I’m rather shocked. You are not, in fact, a complete ass. You have some actual thoughts in your head.” Edelgard said, just a hint of a smile present. 

"Yup, I'm a pretty awesome dame.” Catherine said, patting the younger woman on her shoulder. “Just don't go catching feelings Princess. You and letty may be pretty close in age, but I don't date teenagers. Give it a few years and maybe." 

It took Edelgard a moment to process exactly what had just been said to her, and she felt an overwhelming urge to shove Catherine off of the damned ledge as her face went red. 

"What?!" Catherine lost it, falling backwards and landing onto the balcony clutching at her sides laughing at the bright red empress-to-be screaming in her ear. Finally, after the sun had fully set and Catherine managed to pull herself together, she stood and spoke, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. 

"Oh come on Princess, I'm fucking with you! Lighten up and get the hell out of here. Your scrawny ass will catch your death in this cold."

"I can not believe you. You know what, I take it back. You're an ass. A completely irredeemable ass." Edelgard said, exasperated and rolling her eyes as she slid back onto the balcony and half stomped to the door. She paused for just a moment, turning back to Catherine. “Thank you again.” 

“Don’t mention it, Princess. And... try talking to Letty. You shouldn’t feel guilty, you didn’t know and we know that, or at least I do and Byleth will when she gets her head out of her ass.” 

“...I’ll try.” With that, Edelgard was gone. Catherine turned back, looking as the stars slowly began to show in the sky as the last rays of the sun disappeared. The view was absolutely breathtaking.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Catherine.” the knight in question stood at attention at the voice of Lady Rhea.

“Yes ma’am.” She heard slow, steady footsteps, and soon the voice was coming from almost right behind her. 

“You weren’t at prayer this evening.” Rhea said, her voice a soft whisper that for some reason stoked fear in her that she didn’t understand. Why did it sound so familiar? 

“I apologise, Lady Rhea. I-I meant to go but I-” Catherine felt Lady Rhea’s finger slowly run up the side of her thigh and then up her spine. She couldn’t speak. Why couldn’t she speak?!

“It’s no issue that can’t be atoned for, simple Catherine. But I do think I will have need of you.” Catherine nodded, and as Rhea turned to walk away, she followed close behind whether she wanted to or not.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She would not remember anything after that. As far as Catherine remembered, after Edelgard left she watched the stars for hours. She assumed she must have fallen asleep at some point when she woke up as the sun was rising the next morning, leaned against the wall of the balcony. The only thing Catherine would remember was a very, very strange nightmare. 

Byleth smashed a training dummy into splinters with her gauntlet as the sun rose slowly over the Black Eagle’s training field. The class wouldn’t be gathering for another several hours for lecture, so she had time to train and took full advantage of it. A pile of large wooden dummies were already stacked up, destroyed by her own two fists. 

She took a deep breath, heart pounding like a horse's hooves as she lined up to the next of her wooden victims. She feigned dodging a sword strike, and then a shield bash before faking for a jab to the dummies left side and wheeling her right fist in, smashing the ‘enemy’ back with a hook, another hook, and a cross. A blurring wave of strikes flew from her as she felt some small relief from the pressure within her, and after who-knew-how-long Byleth felt the wood crack and splinter under her knuckles yet again. She growled in frustration as the dummy finally shattered under her final blow. 

“Would you like some help?” Edelgard asked, walking up behind her. She was dressed in her training outfit, red jersey, red shorts, with matching tights and long sleeve shirt underneath. She was holding a wooden training axe in one gloved hand. “It looks like you might be in need of a sparring partner.” Byleth turned back, rolling her shoulders as she moved the dummy to the pile of broken ones on the edge of the field. 

“I don’t need anything, thank you.” 

“Are you sure? It would be better training for you to fight something that can actually hit back. Feigning dodging only does so much.” Byleth stopped as she tried to think of some way to be done with this conversation. She thought she might as well cut to the chase. 

“What do you want?” Byleth asked, throwing the remains of the dummy into the pile, still with her back to Edelgard. 

“To speak with my Professor.” Byleth went stiff at the strange emphasis Edelgard seemed to put on ‘my’, biting her cheek so hard she could taste blood. 

“Go away, Edelgard.” 

“No. You’re the one who has been driving us like cattle, threatening us with extra training. Well, I’m here and ready to train, so let’s begin.” Edelgard said, walking in front of Byleth and looking her in the eye, or trying at least. Byleth refused to meet her gaze. “Or you can stop being such a stubborn ass and talk to me.” 

“There is nothing to talk about, Edelgard. Now go and prepare for today’s lecture.” Byleth muttered. 

“Or else what? You’ll make me stay for an extra sunday of physical training? I’m already here, aren’t I? At least then I would actually get to spend time with you on a sunday.” Edelgard put a bit more venom into her words than she had wanted to, but there was a hurt in her that needed to be heard, and this seemed to be how. Byleth looked away, almost ashamed at her words as she spoke them. 

“I have better things to do with my Sundays than gossip over tea.” Byleth said under her breath. Edelgard felt her frown deepen. 

“You’re right, we certainly did. I believe we had something rather important to discuss.” 

“What in the hell do you want!?” Byleth asked, looking into Edelgard’s eyes, her own twisted in a mix of anger, fear and desperation. 

“For you to speak to me.” 

“What do you want me to say?!” There were tears at the corners of Byleth’s eyes, and Edelgard tried to steady herself.

“Anything, Professor. Just quit pushing us all away. We’re worried about you.” Byleth shook her head. 

“Who the hell is ‘we’?” 

“ Your students. Ferdinand, Petra, Dorothea, Leonie, Ashe, Bernadetta, Catherine…” Edelgard sighed for a minute, saying the next word a bit softer than the rest. “Me. We’re all worried about you, and you pushing us away and acting as if you’re some emotionless stone only makes that worse. Now, In the name of the goddess, quit being so damned stubborn!”

“Please, Edelgard, just drop this. I can’t… Please, just leave me be.” Byleth begged, looking down at the ground. Edelgard could see wet trails on her cheeks. 

“No, Byleth. You can’t hide from everyone, or from the awful things you’re going through. You need someone to confide in, to let yourself be vulnerable to. We all do. I have Hubert, and for some time,” Edelgard hesitated, but if she were going to ask Byleth to be vulnerable with her, she ought to be reciprocal.” For some time now, I’ve thought perhaps I had you. Now, tell me what is wrong.” 

“What’s wrong!?” Byleth exclaimed, almost laughing, raising her arms and gesturing around her. “What isn’t wrong, Edelgard!? Everything is fucking wrong! My entire life is wrong! My father is dead!” Byleth faltered for just a fraction of a second, the weight of the reality that statement held weighing on her to the point she collapsed beneath it, dropping on the ground, sat and with her hands clutching at her hair as she tried to strangle back the tears. “I spent my whole life with that man, and never felt anything. Not for him, because of him, about him, nothing. Then finally I start to know him, to care about him, to understand him and know what having a father actually feels like, and he’s torn away from me. Ripped out of my life, and now I’m just alone. First Sothis, now dad, everyone I thought I could rely on is disappearing from my life or dropping dead around me, one by one and I just know that it’s not going to stop.I’ll just watch everyone I care about go until I’m just left with no one, and I’m just alone.” Edelgard knelt down, wrapping an arm around the Professor’s shoulder gingerly. “I...I spent so long without these damned feelings, and life was so simple. Then everything just goes to hell, and I feel like I'm in a nightmare.” 

“It will be ok, my Professor.” Edelgard tried to reassure. She knew how little being told that helped, but what else was there to say?

“It hurts, Edelgard. It hurts so much and I just want it to stop, I want to go back so badly. I don’t want to be like this anymore. I...I don’t want to care about people just to watch them die. I’ve seen too many people die.” Byleth had lost in the battle against her tears, now sobbing into her arms that lay crossed over her knees, Edelgard tried her best to console her. They sat there, the only sound being Byleth’s occasional choked sob,until finally Edelgard had her words put together well enough she could try to speak. 

“I...I know what it is to lose your family, Professor, how terrifying and isolating it is to learn how reliant we are on the ones we call kin only once that is gone...but you can’t just push everyone away and hope that it’ll make it all hurt less. All you will do is torture yourself and it will drive you mad. You told me on our first real mission together to ‘get my head out of my ass and learn to rely on people around me’ well you.should do as you teach, and learn to rely on us. Don’t throw us aside.” 

“I just...I…” Byleth seemed to choke on the words in her throat. “I’m so afraid. Afraid I will fail you all too, that I'll lose you…” Edelgard did not know if that ‘you’ meant her or her classmates, but it made her heart flutter faster nonetheless. “I can’t lose anyone else to my own failure.” 

“Stop, Professor. You go nowhere blaming yourself for what happened to Jeralt. It would’ve taken an act of the goddess to save him, and you are just one woman.” 

“You’re more right than you know, Edelgard…” Byleth muttered, silently pleading for something, anything from Sothis, but as always, there was just silence. Where had she gone?

“I’m glad you agree. Now come, let’s go and not make you late for your own lecture.” Edelgard stood and offered her hand. Byleth took it in her’s, and the shorter girl helped her Professor stand as they moved towards the classroom. Byleth hastily grabbed her tunic from the ground, throwing it over her undershirt and tying it in place. They made sure to make a quick stop to allow Edelgard to change into her proper uniform. 

That day, for the first time in weeks, no one was threatened with extra training and at one point the class was shocked to see Byleth actually crack a smile. It was small, but absolutely, certainly there. Byleth sat at the front of the class as Petra came forward and spoke on Brigin battle strategy around aerial combat. Bernadetta, much to her chagrin, even was dragged forward by Dorothea when she was asked to come and speak on a segment of one of her recent assignments related to archery aimed to detain, not kill. She was shockingly skilled at guiding the discussion once she finally stopped trying to flee back to her seat. 

The day passed well enough and Byleth dismissed her class to an early afternoon, watching the mass of students pour out of the room like a flood. All but one.

Edelgard stayed back for just a moment and looked back to her Professor. She smiled,and Edelgard saw it returned for the first time in weeks, perhaps months. She and Hubert walked out, and Byleth took that moment to lean back in her chair and heave a deep sigh, letting her feet rest on the edge of the desk. She still felt that ache in the pit of her stomach. That fear, that creeping dread that everything was just a ticking clock away from disappearing from her life, but she would try. She would try to be better, to heal and rely on her comrades. She would try to learn to rely on her students and on Catherine and Edelgard, whatever exactly those two were to her still as fluid as it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, summary at the bottom of this weeks note for wtf happened in that chunk. 
> 
> Ok! So, this weeks chapter was a lot. I'll not lie, originally the next three updates were meant to be this week:(all angst) next week:(half ansgt then edelgard/byleth 'hey fucking talk to me' scene then second half fluff) Third week:(all fluff) but tbh I wanted to just get the angst in one solid blow and let next week be a nice, light, fluffy week cus life is wack. But! I promise next week will have some really cute shit, especially for folks who are fans of a certain trans girl and her orange-haired crush. 
> 
> Summary: Ok, so for those who skipped the segment i marked, basically rhea shows up some time after Edelgard leaves, and reprimands Catherine for skipping her sermon. Catherine is terrified cus Rhea has a creepy horny-on-main whisper, and starts dragging her finger up Catherine's back, before telling catherine to follow her and Catherine does, not being able to stop herself from moving and not being able to speak.


	19. Chapter 19 Happy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe spends some quality time with Leonie that ends with her taking her pants off. The Black Eagles have a few weeks of well deserved happiness as they continue on in the aftermath of the death of Jeralt. Byleth spends some time with Joseph and Fredrique learning about the history of their unit. Ashe finally talks to her classmates about the issues she’s been dealing with, and finds a supportive hand in someone she would never expect. Byleth tries, to mixed success to find a suitable student for the dance competition, Dorothea and Manuela try, to similar mixed success, to help two horribly unaware lesbians actually talk about their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyah! I hope everyone is having a good day when they read this, and I hope this makes it even better. I'm excited for this weeks update, and happy Edelgard day, lmao. I'm glad it timed out so that this chapter came out today. This weeks update, like I mentioned about last weeks, is kind of a 150% update cus I took the second half of the chapter that was meant to be between this chapter and last weeks to just give a nice clean “one week angst one week fluff” so, since everyone braved the emotional hell of last week, here is my formal apology in the form of a chapter that is 98% fluffy bullshit. One note, there is discussions of trans stuff, dysphoria, coming out and the like. But I’ll spoil it now, everything goes super well. No one gets transphobic.  
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage
> 
> I'll give my usual plug to The Unqualified 1 (She's anything but) https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1

Ashe tried to steady the fear buzzing around her insides like lightning bugs as she walked. She had no idea what she was doing, or what she had intended to say, but she found herself nonetheless marching towards Leonie’s room. She had barely seen her friend for the past two weeks, and for some reason, that night, she was driven to change that. 

She’d walked to the front of the kitchen, Leonie having yet again skipped dinner, and asked for a plate to bring to a classmate, and she was now marching toward the dormitory, plate in hand, trying not to drop the food as the hot plate stung her flesh. How had Leonie managed to carry one to her all those months ago? This was ridiculous! She must have much stronger fingers, Ashe thought. 

Ashe managed to make it to the door of Leonie’s room without dropping the plate or burning herself beyond first degree. She set the plate aside for just a moment and knocked on the door, picking the plate back up as she waited for a reply. There was a long, audible sigh from the other side of the door. 

“Screw off!” Well that was certainly a reply. It sounded like Leonie, although it seemed a bit muffled. 

“Oh...ok...sorry. I brought you some dinner...I’ll just leave it here on the patio if you…” There was a loud thud followed by some scrambling sounds and suddenly the door was flung open. Leonie was stood in her pajamas, a faded orange short sleeved shirt that seemed like it had seen better decades. It was much too large for her, ending just above her knees in a way that made Ashe blush furiously at the thought she had no way of knowing if she was actually wearing anything under it. Ashe mentally kicked herself for letting her mind wander to such a topic as she realized Leonie was speaking to her. 

“No! Sorry, Ashe...I didn’t realize it was you.” Leonie said hurriedly, rubbing at the back of her neck. 

“Oh, well...who did you think it was?” Leonie blushed a bit, not wanting to say ‘literally anybody else’, knowing that might lead to some conversations she was meant to be ‘putting a pin in’. She tried to find a better reply. 

“Oh, well, a few of the mercenaries from Jeralt’s company have been swinging by to check on me…It was kind of annoying.” She knew that was an awful lie, but what was she supposed to say? 

“That makes sense.” Leonie thanked the goddess that Ashe wasn’t the most inquisitive guy. “I brought you some dinner...I didn’t see you in the dining hall and figured you were probably hungry.” Ashe held out the plate, and Leonie took it awkwardly, smiling at her classmate a bit until she almost dropped the whole thing onto the floor, just barely managing to catch it in time. . 

“Y..yeah you mentioned that. Thanks, Ashe. Um, how have you been? I’ve seen you training with Catherine quite a bit lately.” To say Ashe had been going hard was the understatement of the century. She was out training with Seteth, the wyvern, and Catherine almost every other day now. Leonie had even noticed a leather burn around Ashe’s forearm from wrapping the reins for flight. “It...It honestly had me a little worried.”

“Oh, hahaha, yeah. Catherine just had a lot more free time the past few weeks, so she’s been helping me train…” Ashe bit her lip as she tried to figure out some way to change the topic of conversation. 

“I get that. I just mean that, well-” 

“Are you ok, Leonie?” 

“Yeah, I’m just really hungry.” Leonie laughed a bit, looking away to try and hide the red in her cheeks. She hadn’t realized how long it’d been since she’d eaten. 

“Oh! Of course, here, you go and enjoy your dinner. I’ll talk to you some other time?” Ashe asked. 

“Would you wanna stay? I haven’t really seen you in a while outside of class. I wouldn’t mind some company while I eat.” Ashe swallowed a bit, trying to stave off nerves. She didn’t have anything else to be doing, this time of night, but she was worried. Leonie seemed happy, and Ashe couldn’t help wonder if she might ruin that. 

“I, yeah, I can stay.”

“If you have something else, you don’t have to, I just…” 

“No, no I didn’t mean it like that.I would love to stay.” Ashetried to reassure her, her grin faltering just a bit. Leonie moved aside, letting her walk in, and Ashe sat on her usual spot at the foot of Leonie’s bed, the heavy feathered comforter sinking under her backside. She sprawled back, thumping into it and sending one or two feathers into the air. Leonie took her spot leaning against the headboard of the bed, as if they were going to start studying for exams. She set the plate on her lap and looked at it for a moment; Ashe realized she had forgotten silverware, and was about to apologize and offer to go grab some, when Leonie grabbed the chicken breast off of the plate with a bare hand and tore into it with her teeth without a moment’s hesitation. She grabbed one of the roasted brussel sprouts and popped it in her mouth as well. 

“So, how’s the training with Catherine been going?” She asked through a mouth full of half chewed meat and sprout. Ashe folded her arms behind her head, shrugging a bit. 

“Honestly, it’s been nice. Catherine is surprisingly good at teaching, even if she can kind of be a bitch at times.” Leonie choked on the food in her mouth, looking at Ashe shocked. “What?!” 

“You… you called her a bitch!?” Ashe looked at her, confused. 

“Yes? And?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear. You’re Ashe! You don’t swear!” Leonie gestured at Ashe, as if the fact was written on her forehead. 

“I...I don’t know I feel like I’ve sworn before…” 

“You’re spending too much time with Catherine, next thing you know I’m gonna have to drag Edelgard off of you before she can kick your ass for calling her ‘princess’.” Leonie laughed, covering her mouth a bit with one hand. Once she had finished laughing and swallowed the food in her mouth, she took a moment before continuing.“Thanks again, Ashe. You’re a good friend.” Ashe shrugged again, smiling over at Leonie as she tore another chunk off the chicken breast. It was weirdly cute, Ashe thought, wondering if perhaps she might be going slightly insane. 

“It’s not a big deal, Leonie. It’s just a plate of food.” 

“Not just that, I mean for sticking around. It’s nice getting to talk to someone. To not be so...alone.” 

“You know you wouldn’t be so alone lately if you came out of here more than just for class.” Ashe kicked herself internally, again, for the frown that brought onto Leonie’s face. 

“I know. I just don’t want to be a bother to anyone.” Leonie said quietly, the somberness of the moment slightly disturbed by the fact she had mumbled it through a mouth full of chicken.

“Well, you’re not a bother to me.” Ashe said, leaning up and propping herself on her hands. 

“Thanks, Ashe.” 

“It’s nothing, really.” Leonie blushed at the words, setting the chicken, or what little was left of it, down and wiping her fingers off on the end of the shirt. The myriad stains on that spot showed that was not an uncommon occurrence. 

“That really is a massive shirt…” Ashe commented idly, causing Leonie to tug a bit on the fabric. 

“It was Jeralt’s. He gave it to me when he was at my village. I had torn my dress while training, so he let me wear it back to my house so I could change. Then he never really asked for it back so I just kept it.” Leonie laid her arms on her lap, trying to make it seem casual, but it looked as if she were hugging the shirt to herself. Ashe could see her holding back tears. She was better at it than most, but Ashe couldn’t not spot it if she tried. The site sent a a pain through her like an arrow through her heart, 

“...I’m so sorry, Leonie.” Ashe said, sitting forward and toying with her fingers as she tried to find better words.

“You can’t blame yourself, Ashe.” Leonie said, startling the girl a bit. “I know that’s why you’ve been doing that extra training. Isn’t it?” She seemed to lose confidence at the very end. 

“I, I don’t know. Maybe? I just, I need to get better. I need to be better. Maybe if I’d been better, if I hadn’t fallen off…” 

“No.” And like that, Ashe went silent. “You’re not going to play some ‘Oh woah is me’ bullshit and try to blame yourself for Jeralt’s death. Jeralt told me to go help you, and even if he hadn’t I made my choice and I would do it a thousand times over. I don’t blame myself for Jeralt dying, and you shouldn’t either. People die, it happens, and it sucks, but you did your best.” 

“Thanks, Leonie. It means a lot to hear you say that.” 

“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t hate me…then, and I could never blame you.” Leonie said, smiling at her friend. For a long moment the two of them just smiled at one another, comforted by each other’s familiar presence. After the evening bell tolled 9, however, Ashe stood to leave. 

“Goodness, it’s getting late. I’ll, um, I’ll leave you to your dinner. See you tomorrow at training?” 

“I’ll be there.” Leonie said before jarringly resuming her sentence. “Ashe, could you stay the night?” Ashe went bright red. “Not like that, you idiot! I just mean I don’t really want to be alone tonight. It was...nice, having you here, and I’d appreciate it if you stayed.” 

Ashe wanted to say yes, goddess above did she want to say yes. Only because she should be there for her friend in her hour of need, of course, but there was one massive, glaring issue. 

“I… I would love to, but I don’t have any pajamas. Any clean ones I mean.” 

That wasn’t entirely a lie. Her only pair of pajamas that would be ‘appropriate’ for her was still filthy from the mission to Remire, but she did have her nightgown. She only needed those other pajamas for missions, so it had just slipped her mind to wash them.

“Oh!” Leonie stood up, walking over to her drawers and pulling out a pair of shorts and a jersey. It looked to be spares of their physical training gear, the yellow color made Ashe think they were likely leftover from her time in the Deer, short lived as it was.

“That seems like it could work, but uhh I think there’s a bit of a size difference issue.” Ashe commented sheepishly. Leonie rolled her eyes and shoved Ashe, giggling a bit. 

“Shut up and turn around. We may be close but I don’t feel like getting that close.” Ashe wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, but she turned around and looked at the door, wondering if Leonie was intent on trying to jump her and force the jersey on over her clothes. She wouldn’t put it past the woman, she was certainly bold enough to try some such joke. 

Ashe was pulled from her thoughts by the feeling of warm fabric on her shoulder, and looked to see Leonie, now wearing the slightly baggy athletic wear, with the orange shirt she had previously been wearing held out towards Ashe.

“It’ll be big, but it should work better than you trying to wear my shorts. Think of it like a nightgown, if that doesn’t do too brutal of a number on your masculinity.” Leonie teased, seeing a strange reaction cross Ashe’s face, some strange mix of excitement followed by disappointment. Ashe reached out and took the shirt, but Leonie held on just a second longer, almost clinging to it. “Just be careful.” 

“I will be. Thank you, Leonie.” Ashe said, blushing a bit. “Can you, um, turn around?” Leonie giggled and shook her head. 

“Nope, come on, string bean, give me a show.” Ashe went even more red, mkaing Leonie laugh harder. “Shit, Ashe, I was just kidding. Ok, ok, I’m turning.” Leonie said, and when she was finished Ashe sighed and undin her jacket, folding it neetly and setting it on the ground before doing the same with the button down underneath, and then slid the shirt on. It ended even lower on her then it had leonie, going below her knees. She undid her belt and stepped out of her trousers, nearly tripping and falling onto her backside as she did. She opted to leave her boxers on, folding her pants and setting them on the pile with the other clothes. After another second, Leonie piped up. “You done, Ashe?” 

“Yeah, you’re ok to turn around.” Ashe said, brushing off the front of the shirt. She faced Leonie and saw her look a bit taken aback.”What?!” 

“Nothing...you just make a cute girl.” Ashe couldn’t quite tell if that was meant to be a joke, or a sincere compliment, but either way it made her go red. “Oh sheesh, Ashe if you blush any redder I swear I’m taking you to Manuela. You’ve got me worried you have a fever or something.” 

“I’m fine, ahaha, sorry.” Ashe laughed, and soon enough they moved back to their spots on the bed, spending a long while talking until they’d both felt properly tired. It must have been hours, but finally they moved the now-well-cleaned plate onto the desk and went to lay down.

Leonie appreciated the warmth beside her in bed, but she did feel a bit guilty. She wondered if this was what Jeralt had meant by ‘putting a pin in it’ and figured the answer would likely be no. 

Ashe found herself trying to parse the swirl of emotions in her at that moment. Leonie has asked her to stay, given her a shirt that clearly meant a lot to her just so she could do so, and now they were laying in the same bed, so close she could feel her weight shifting on the mattress as she got comfortable. A strange part of her wanted to move closer still, but she tried to push it down a bit. One thought, however, rang in her mind. 

“Leonie thinks I’m a cute girl…” Ashe mouthed silently to herself, smiling brighter than she really ever remembered doing before as she felt her eyes growing heavy. 

Somewhere along the way from their falling asleep to them waking to the morning bell, Ashe and Leonie seemed to have ‘mysteriously’ rearranged themselves in bed. Leonie awoke to find the heavy weight of Ashe’s head on her chest, well more accurately her stomach. She reached down, still in the dazed fog of fading sleep, and played with her classmates hair listlessly. Ashe seemed to push her head into the tough, still asleep. 

After several long minutes, Ashe finally woke up. It took nearly twenty minutes of reassurance to get Ashe to stop apologizing. It likely wouldn’t have taken as long if she could understand what the other girl was saying, but Leonie just couldn’t stop laughing. 

Later that day, Leonie jabbed her lance into the stomach of the poorly padded training dummy as part of her evening training, working to try and push herself for another few hours after class before retiring to the baths to prepare for dinner. 

Lecture had let out an hour or so ago, and she knew if she didn’t vent her feelings through training, they were likely to spoil her mood all day. It had been two days in a row, or well two lectures, since she had started to notice Byleth’s sudden miraculous rediscovery of emotions. After weeks of her complete non-reaction to Jeralt’s death, she was, out of seemingly nowhere, smiling and even laughing at times when some ridiculous nonsense from Dorothea or Linhardt or whoever else occured in class. It didn’t matter that Leonie noticed the occasional frown, or if the laughter was more subdued than it had been previously. It still drove her mad. 

Leonie heard the door to the Arena close with a heavy click, and when she turned there was the woman herself, with one of those frowns plastered onto her lips. She lodged the lance in the dummy's forehead, wiping her sweaty brow with a hand as she looked the woman up and down, sizing her up for a fight. 

“Professor.” 

“Leonie, can we talk?” Byleth asked. 

“Intent on showing off your deadlift again?” Leonie spat, and then quite literally spitting a glob of mucous onto the ground. 

“No. I wanted to apologize.” Leonie gave an inquisitive look. “I...I shouldn’t have reacted how I did when we argued… I shouldn’t have grabbed you.” 

“Thank you, Professor No-Shit.” Leonie said, stepping closer and jabbing her finger into Byleth’s chest. “Don’t you dare think you can stumble your ass in here and give me some half brained ‘I’m sorry’ and make everything ok.” 

“I don’t. But it’s as good as any place to start, at least as well as I know.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Leonie asked.

“I...I’m sorry, that’s unrelated and it was foolish to mention.” 

“No, cut the shit, what did you mean?” Byleth tried to think if there was some way she could say the things she’d been pondering over for so long without seeming absolutely mad. But, at the same time there was little way around it. Leonie was owed an explanation for why she had been acting the way she had. In a sense all her student’s did, but Leonie was the one before her at that moment. 

“I...I am rather inexperienced with emotions.” 

“.....What the hell does that mean?” Leonie pushed farther.

“I… haven’t had emotions, in the normal sense of things, until very very recently. For a long time, I just kind of...didn’t feel anything. Emotions, tastes, all of it. It just all blurred into a mass of grey in my mind and didn’t really feel like anything. I have memories of those times, foggy as they may be. But recently that changed, and as seems rather obvious, I am not the best at managing it all yet. I know that doesn’t make my outburst ok, but I want you to know that I wasn’t just how I was for the sake of it.” 

“...That’s what you meant about you being a bad daughter.” Byleth nodded, feeling a new, strange sensation of discomfort and wishing she could just run from the room as they spoke on. “Did you just flip back to that when Jeralt died? Like, is it a candle type thing, you can light or blow out?” 

“No. I didn’t…’flip’ back. I was trying to, in a way, I guess. Hoping I could go back to that instead of dealing with what had happened. But,all I was really doing was-” 

“Being a stubborn bitch?” Leonie offered, pulling her lance from the dummy and leaning on it. Byleth sighed again and nodded, almost laughing. 

“I guess that’s a pretty good way to put it…” 

“....I guess I get that.” 

“I...how have you been handling everything? I know dad meant a lot to you. It...it can’t have been easy.” 

“I’ve been fine.” Leonie said tursely. Byleth was about to speak, but Leonie continued on. “Not like you were ‘fine’, I’m maintaining, though. Ashe has been a big help...he’s a good guy like that. Da-” Leonie seemed to catch herself, swallowing something down and continuing. “Jeralt did mean a lot to me, but I’ll make it through.” 

“I’m glad you’ve been able to rely on your comrades.” 

‘Comrade’. It was an accurate term, but Leonie still felt more and more like it didn’t quite match what Ashe was to her. However, Leonie wasn’t able to ponder that long.

“...I....” Blyeth grew even more desperate, wishing Sothis was there to try and guide her in this conversation, as she struggled to find the words to say what she wanted to.Byleth took a deep breath and shook her head. To hell with it. Speaking her mind had gotten her this far, why stop now? “I don’t mind if you call him Dad, Leonie. I don’t think he would have, either. In fact, I know he wouldn’t.” Leonie pursed her lips at the words, looking down as she tapped the handle of the spear on the ground. Why did that idea bring tears to her eyes so quickly? 

“....You think so?” Byleth nodded yes. Leonie took a deep breath, and without another word turned her back to Byleth and hurled her spear like a bolt into a distant dummies stomach. She began wiping away at the corners of eyes with her thumb and forefinger, holding them there as she took a deep breath again, as if she were intent to physically hold the tears within her. Byleth walked up, tentatively, and went to put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, but before she could Leonie wheeled back around, wrapping her arms around Byleth’s midsection in a tight hug and crying into her shoulder. Byelth went rigid, eyes wide as she tried to figure out what in the hell she was supposed to do here. Byleth was thankful she’d left her armor off that day, as she was certain that would have hurt like hell for Leonie to smack her head against. She finally settled on returning the hug, wrapping Leonie in the heavy black fabric of her tunic sleeves. After a long while, and long after Byleth’s shirt was notably damp, she heard Leonie whisper. “I just wanted to make him proud… I spent so long trying to be good enough. Trying to show him I was a good apprentice. I just, how am I supposed to make a dead man proud?” 

“I don’t know. But I’ll be by your side, and we can try to figure it out together, if you want to.” Leonie nodded into her shoulder. 

Byleth walked into the Audience Chamber later that day, having received a summons from the Archbishop. Her mind rested heavily on thoughts of that note she had found in her father’s office. The chain, with both rings still hung from it, sat just as heavily over her heart, right beside the pendant she’d received from Edelgard a few short months that still felt like so very long ago. 

Manuela, as well as Hanneman, both stood with the Archbishop already, greeting Byleth as she joined them. Byleth saw Hanneman give a simple nod, while Manuela looked at her with a tired smile.

“Thank you all for joining us. As I’m sure you know, security is tightly expanded on Academy grounds in the aftermath of Jeralt’s unfortunate passing. As such, each of you and your classes will be responsible for maintaining enhanced security around the Academy. While we will have our regular guard on staff at maximum capacity, they will still be drained of resources and manpower, thus any reports of strange activity should be responded to promptly by one of your three classes. Hanneman, you and your students will address security for guard posts to the north, north east, and eastern fronts. Manuela, you will be assigned to the south east, south, and south west, and Professor Eisner, you will cover the west and north west. There is much more open prairie in that direction, but little of interest beyond an abandoned chapel. Are these instructions understood?” The professors all replied with a ‘yes, Archbishop’. “Good. On a positive note, as I’m sure you’re also aware, the anniversary of the founding of our beautiful Monastery is fast approaching, the thirty-first of this month! As such, we shall celebrate 995 years of service to the goddess that has happened on these hallowed grounds by holding a ball on the 30th. As is customary, we will also be throwing a special competition for the classes based on an artistic feat. This year, it will be a dance competition! Each class will be expected to put forward one student to participate, and the winner will receive personal instruction from a very talented fighter whose combat style specializes in dance and combat.” To Byleth, the prospect of mixing dancing and war seemed rather disturbing, but she thought better than to question, given however many warnings she had now to be wary of this woman. The three professors acknowledged the order, saying they would have their picks in by the end of that week. They were promptly dismissed, all but Byleth, that is. 

“You have need of me, Archbishop.” Byleth said as she felt an uneasy pressure settle on the back of her neck. 

“Yes, professor. I had wondered how you were managing as of late, given your father’s passing.” 

“I am...fine. Managing well enough.” Byleth said. 

“That is good. I’m glad to hear it. I do not know if you were aware professor, but I too lost my mother, what feels like so very long ago. I know what it is, loss. It is soul crushing. It can break you, if you let it.” 

“I am sorry for your loss.” Byleth said, a bit taken back. How had this turned into her consoling the Archbishop?

“Don’t be. It was, as I said, long ago. I’ve found my ways of dealing with grief. But still, there is nothing I would not give to have my dear mother back…” Rhea went quiet, and her eyes almost seemed to lose focus before suddenly snapping back up to Byleth. “I have a gift, a token of my sympathy of sorts. One you may find familiar, but I hope you will have some use of it.” Rhea walked to her office, gesturing for Byleth to follow. Once inside, she went to her desk, where a large, cloth wrapped bundle was sat across the table. Rhea picked it up, handing it to Byleth. “Please, open it.” 

Byleth undid the long length of fine rope that held the fabric over it, and as that fell away, the long serrated bone blade of the Sword of the Creator was left in her hands. As she took it in her hand properly, she started to speak. 

“Archbishop, I appreciate this, but I’m not a sword used, and I couldn’t take something so…” as she spoke, however, the handle grew warm in her hand, unseen veins in the bone seeming to pulse with light. Byleth stared at the blade as Rhea clapped happily, like a little girl who had just opened her largest present at her birthday. “I...what is this..why is it…” 

“Professor! This is good! This is wonderful!” Rhea pulled her into a hug, and Byleth felt as if her spine were intent on ripping itself out from her skin at the uneasiness she felt. “This is a sign! It must be!” 

“A sign of what?” Byleth asked, concerned beyond belief as she could swear she felt something creeping through her body from where Rhea’s hands touched, only to stop as she felt heat in her chest. The heat felt fractured, like she had had her chest filled the flaming arrow heads or shards of molten glass. 

“Good things, professor. Wonderful things. I had thought for so long that there may be no hope, but this...the goddess smiles upon us, does she not?” Byleth was not sure how to answer. Why was she speaking to her as if she would know? She was the Archbishop, Bringer of Order, Voice of the Goddess, was she not? 

“Y...yes, she does, I would bet.” Byleth replied, trying her best to say what needed said and escape. 

“Wonderful. Please, do not let the weapon from your sight.” Rhea smiled, and Byleth realized it seemed like the first genuine smile she had ever seen from the woman. 

“Understood, Archbishop.” 

“Please, Professor, you may call me Rhea.” 

“Understood, Archbishop Rhea.” Byleth said, ignoring the slightly disappointed look as she was dismissed, practically fleeing from the room, sword in hand. She went to the office that had once belonged to her father, taking time to calm herself while finding a suitable sheath that she could wear among some of the scattered equipment in her father’s old chest. She strung it over her back, where she may have no ability to use it, but would be able to carry it without too much of a hindrance. 

As she walked from her father’s old office, she saw Catherine walking up the hall, and against her own nerves, walked over to meet her. 

“Catherine! Do you have a minute?” Byleth asked, fingers drumming on the handle of her proper shortsword. 

“Yeah, Letty, of course. What’s up?” Catherine asked, seeming to snap from a daydream. 

“Oh, well, I wanted to talk to you.” 

“I figured as much when you asked if I had a moment.” Catherine teased with that same cavalier smirk. “Whats up, Byleth?” 

“I just wanted to say that, well, i’m sorry.” Byleth said, looking down a bit. “I know I was kind of a, well I was kind of a raging bitch. I have been trying to make things better the past few…?” Byleth was confused as Catherine’s finger hooked under her chin, lifting it. 

“Come on, Byleth, you were going through a lot. I get that, better than most, maybe. We’re fine.” Byleth only grew more confused. So easily? It was as if Catherine could read her thoughts as the woman held her arms out at the side, offering a hug. “Come on, you look like it’s been a long damn day.” Byleth rolled her eyes. “Come on, Letty, you can relax for a minute.” Byleth blushed just a bit, and finally caved, stepping into Catherine and feeling herself be wrapped in her arms. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Byleth asked, muffled slightly by the sleeve in her face. 

“Yeah, I got a hot date.” Byleth looked at her, confused. “Byleth, I’m fucking with you. No, I’m free. Just got off of guard duty and I already dropped off my report.” 

“Dinner, then?” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Their walk down to the dining hall was very quickly interrupted by two very familiar knights. While Catherine spent a good part of the conversation trying to catch Fredrique and beat him to hell and back, Byleth and Joseph managed to actually have a conversation. 

“So, where were you two off to before Catherine started….that?” Byleth asked, gesturing to the headlock her partner currently had Fredrique held in.

“Oh, we were going to town for some dinner and drinks. What about yourselves?” Joseph looked over to the duo, groaning to himself. “One moment. Fredrique! Put the fishing rod down! You’d be better off hitting her with a damn fish! Sorry, you were saying?” He asked, turning back to Byleth. 

“We were just going to get dinner at the dining hall. Babe, come on, at least use a rock or something! Sorry, Joseph. I was saying, I’ve been kind of an ass as of late so we were going to grab some food and just catch up for the night.” 

“Oh, that's good you two are patching things up. I’m glad to see Catherine back in a good mood. As much as it seems like Fredrique may be unimpressed. You know, if the two of you would like, you’re more than welcome to join us for dinner.” 

“Are you sure mixing those two with food and alcohol is the best idea? I...wait, hold on. Catherine, is that really the best you can do? ” Byleth asked, looking at the two who were now wrestling around trying to feed eachother fistfulls of dirt. 

“Oh, believe me, Catherine never brawls drunk. Her and Fredrique are both sappy lightweights when they’re sloshed. If anything it’d probably help.” 

“You know, I wouldn’t be opposed, if you’re sure it’s no bother.” Byleth gestured to the duo. “Should we?” 

“Goddess, please. That man has bad enough breath as it is, I don’t need her adding soil to the mix.” The two walked over to the feuding duo, Byleth grabbing Catherine by her ponytail and dragging the woman off of the smaller redhead, who Joseph then lifted up by his jacket. 

After finally settling the two, they made their way to the path out of Garreg Mach and into the small town nearby. The market square was long past empty, but a few scattered buildings had their windows open, the scent of cooking food wafting out. 

Quickly finding a spot in a smaller cookery, they began idly chitchatting over drinks. Joseph had ordered a bottle of wine, which he and Byleth decided to split as the lager Catherine ordered tasted like piss to her, and the whisky Fredrique had chosen was much too strong considering she had to teach in the morning. They ordered a bit of food, scarfing it down hungrily. As they all slowly grew full, they each disengaged from the plates in front of them, chatting over the remains of their meal. 

“So wait, you have been in the knights that long and are still not a commander?” Byleth asked, looking at Joseph.

“Yup. I’ve been in the Knights more than three times as long as Cassy here, and I got the scars and headaches to prove it.” Joseph said, giggling a bit too loud. 

“Yeah, and you’re senile enough no one would doubt it.” Catherine shot back. 

“Oh go fuck yourself Cat.” Joseph said, taking another drink. 

“But really, what happened? Why so long as a grunt?” Byleth asked, drinking from her own glass. Much to Joseph’s horror, she had opted to simply take her wine in a cup similar to Fredrique’s, as opposed to the long, strange glass he drank from. 

“Well, I have a problem with authority.” Joseph mumbled. Catherine lost it laughing, slamming her fist into the table to the point Byleth worried it may break. 

“That’s one way to put it!” Catherine said, panting for air. “Oh my goddess, Letty, you gotta hear this story. Joe here is the one who got me my promotion.” Byleth shot the man a confused look. 

“Oh I didn’t get you shit, Catherine.” 

“Bull. OK, Letty, listen to this. So, before me, the unit was run by this absolutely up-his-own-ass old commander, right? Big old fashioned type, made Joseph here look like a fucking trouble making teenager. It’s our first day with Fredrique on our unit, goddess, it must’ve been like, six years ago, and prettyboy here comes up to us, 21 years old, looking like he’s about to fall over from fright.”

“Awe, you think I’m pretty, Cat? That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said.” Fredrique said sarcastically into his glass.

“Yeah, pretty fucking annoying. Anyway, the commander starts giving him some shit, and all of a sudden Fredrique is a whole new man. He starts saying shit to the commander like ‘ screw you, old man, i’m a better soldier than you probably ever were. You make a mummy look like a hot piece of ass, you dusty old bastard’” Catherine made a crude, slurred imitation of Fredrique’s voice. “Well, after a little while of back and forth, the commander is pissed to a level I had never seen before, and I’d seen him pretty angry.”

“That’s putting it lightly. You lit his tent on fire. Three separate times.” Joseph grumbled.

“Hey, he’s the one who never got my name right. But anyway, the commander goes off and loses it, calls Fredrique a ‘little redheaded cocksucker’, and, not that that ain’t true-” 

“Fuck off, Cat.” Fredrique chimed in. 

“If the cocksucker in question is done interrupting my story,” She shot the archer a glare. “That’s when Joseph here fucking loses it. I have never seen this man so pissed. But he just leaps across the gap between them and starts knocking the commander’s ass into the dirt with his bare hands like the guy was a freaking tent stake. He has the guy half bloody, when finally some other units come over and drag him off. I’m sitting there, laughing my whole ass off practically losing a lung, and they’re six dudes who can barely get Joe back long enough for the commander to escape.” 

“Are you done?” Joe asked, looking bored as he swirled his wine around the glass. 

“Not even close. I gotta tell Letty how that got me here.” 

“I’m more curious how in the hell you weren’t kicked from the knights, Joseph.” Byleth commented, sipping from her cup.

“Well, you see, once they’d actually dragged the mangled bastard away, Lady Rhea calls us all into the audience chamber, and Seteth is there ranting about order this and control that, some shit about ‘discipline’, and so we get to the point where they ask me what happened, since I wasn’t involved in the actual fight or the commander’s beef with Fredrique. So, they ask me, and you know what I say?” Byleth shook her head no.

“How the fuck would she Cat?” Fredrique pitched. 

“Shut up, cocksucker. I’m trying to be dramatic here.” 

“Oh shut the fuck up, carpet muncher.” Fredrique shot back.

“Oh choke on a cock, bow-bitch.” Catherine threw a chicken bone from her plate at the archer, plinking it off his forehead and into his glass, which he then dumped in her lap. 

“That’s the closest you’ll get to getting your dick wet anytime soon, you asshole!” Fredrique said smugly. 

“I thought you said booze made them fight less.” Byleth whispered over to Joseph. He chuckled and shrugged, leaning over and whispering back. 

“It’s more of a 50/50 kind of thing.” Joe cleared his throat, slamming one massive hand on the table and instantly silencing both of the arguing duo. “Catherine, please complete your damn story. Reekee, sweetheart, you know you’ve got better insults than that. The woman’s girlfriend… girlfriend?” Joe asked, looking at Byleth for some sort of clerification, she simply shrugged. Joseph rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Byleth is literally right here. That insult doesn’t even make sense.” Fredrique pouted a bit, making Joe roll his eyes yet again and take the mans much smaller hand in his own, using the other to gesture for Catherine to continue. 

“Ok, sorry Joe. Anyway, I tell them that the commander was blaspheming, and said Fredrique was ‘such an ugly fuck that even a whore like that bitch archbishop wouldn’t nail you’.” Catherine tried to hold back her laughter, her face going red as she did. “And the funniest fucking part is, he tried to say that wasn’t what he said, but he couldn’t admit that he’d called a man under his command a cocksucker! Because, I mean, like that’s any better, right? So the dude lost his job, and guess who the hell got promoted in his stead?!” 

“You’re shitting me.” Byleth called, flat out. 

“Dead to rights.” Catherine said, slapping her hand on the table. 

“You done?” Joseph asked, swirling his drink.

“Yeah, I'm done old man.” 

“Fuck you, Catherine.” Fredrique muttered, head resting on his one unoccupied palm as he tried to keep awake. 

“Love you too, Freddy.” Catherine mused. 

“Ok, I think he’s had enough. Catherine I love you kiddo, but you’re a bitch when you’re tipsy.” Joe said, standing up. 

“When isn’t she a bitch?” Fredrique muttered, half conscious as Joseph literally picked the man up, bridal style and started walking out of the restaurant. 

“Love you too, Joe. You two be safe.” Catherine commented. 

Soon after, Catherine and Byleth also left, walking back to the Monastery. Byleth made them take a detour to swing by the library, so she could “commandeer” a book on dance steps, but after that they spent the rest of the evening curled up together on Byleth’s bed, catching up on the past few weeks' events before falling asleep.

Ashe took a deep breath and tried her best to still her nerves. She was sat in the classroom as the other student’s poured out the door, the afternoon bell having released them for the day. However, she had, finally, decided she was ready to talk to someone, anyone, and she figured Byleth was as good a person to start with. 

The doors slowly swung closed, and Byleth, still sat at her chair, scrawled hastily while reading through a book of what appeared to be dance instructions. Ashe was going to try and stand up, to go over to that desk and speak with her, but something kept her glued to her chair. Fear, she found, was a rather effective adhesive in these situations. It was several times as long as Ashe thought appropriate before Byleth finally looked up from the book and noticed herl there. She set down the pen and closed the book, looking over. 

“Are you ok, Ashe? You look like you’re about to puke. Do I need to get Manuela?” Byleth asked. Ashe shook her head no. Byleth nodded, standing up and moving to the desk in front of her, sitting on the table and resting her feet on the chair. “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“I...Professor, sorry, Byleth...what do you see, when you look at me?” Byleth looked confused. “How...how would you describe me, if someone were to ask you to?” Byleth still looked confused, but seemed to understand the question, if not why it was asked. 

“I see...I see a student with white hair, green hair, wearing a uniform, shorts, weirdly tall black socks, um, a blue hood. I see….Ashe what the hell is going on?” Byleth asked, giving up. Clearly she was missing something. 

Ashe sighed and drooped down in the chair, exasperated. This wasn’t going at all as she had expected. Then again, seeing as this was Byleth, perhaps she should have known that from the beginning. She took another deep breath, sitting up and trying to think of how to say this. Finally she tried to take some inspiration from Leonie, and just say it, just drop it like a heavy book on a table and damn the consequences. 

“Professor, I think I’m a woman.” Ashe said, a bit too quickly. The speed seemed to take Byleth aback for just a moment, but as she seemed to process the words, she cracked a faint smile. 

“Good for you.” Ashe shook her head, looking back confused. 

“I...thank you...is...is it really just...that easy?” Ashe asked, kind of flabbergasted. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I don’t...I don’t know. I guess I just expected there to be, well, more.” Ashe said sheepishly. 

“More what?” 

“I’m not really sure...talking, I guess? Explaining? I think that’s it...I thought there would be more I’d have to explain.” Ashe shrugged, and Byleth nodded along. 

“Do you want to explain?” 

“A bit...I guess?” Byleth waved her on. “I don’t know…I just don’t understand what everyone else sees. I look in the mirror and it seems I see someone completely different than everyone else. The way i’m told, they see this dapper young man and all I see is a girl who is invisible to everyone else. But at the same time I don’t feel like I can call myself a woman because I’m just this grubby violent thief who wants to be a knight. I’m not beautiful, I’m not pretty, I’m just...a knight. It feels like because of that I don’t get to call myself a woman, I feel wrong to say it, even though that’s all I want to do. These people give me all these compliments and it just turns bitter, like vinegar. I hate every moment of it no matter how “handsome” they say I am.” As Ashe spoke, Byleth heard the venom in her words grow more and more, until she took another deep breath. “Does that, well, does that make sense?” Byleth nodded, smiling again. 

“Ashe, you don’t know anyone else like you, do you?” Ashe shook her head no. Byleth knew that was wrong, she knew one. But was that really her information to give away?

“The Kingdom, it’s not the type of place where people talk about, well, anything. Especially not that sort of thing.” Byleth nodded again as Ashe spoke. Catherine had made similar comments about her home. 

“Well, I’m glad you talked to me about this. Is there any new name you want to go by?” Ashe shook her head. She hadn’t even really thought about that. Ashe was her name, she liked it. Why would she change it? 

“I just really want people to stop calling me ‘sir’ and shit like that.” Ashe blushed as she realized what had slipped from her mouth. Byleth laughed and stood, patting the girl on her shoulder. 

“You’ve spent too much time with Catherine. I’ll make sure to pick my words carefully from now on. I assume you want to tell the others yourself?” Ashe nodded. 

“I think that would be best. Thank you professor.” Byleth nodded. 

“Of course Ashe. You’re an honest young woman, I like that in a comrade. Now, may I make a suggestion?” Ashe nodded. “I’d recommend starting with Catherine.” Ashe looked at her confused, but thought she had already overstayed her welcome, and stood to leave. Another thank you and a goodbye, and she was gone. 

A few short hours later, Catherine found herself being on the receiving end of a conversation she’d been on the delivering end of multiple dozens of times when she wasn’t too much younger than Ashe.

Ashe gave the same explanation as she had to Byleth, she had practiced it a dozen times that morning before, so it was just instinct by then, but the difference was, when she felt that venom in her throat as she lamented how people’s compliments hurt her, she found herself being hugged by a knight who would never admit to exactly how much she cried that afternoon. 

Ashe found solace in the fact Catherine knew what she was going through, was able to put words to the things she had felt but never been able to name, explained the ways Manuela could help with various things, and how anyone who dared harass Ashe would have hell to pay, from Catherine and her men personally. Ashe sobbed openly in the middle of the arena as Catherine asked if she wanted someone to go with her to pick up any new clothes. 

That afternoon, Ashe found something she’d missed so desperately for so many months, ever since that fateful day with Lonato. She found, in the most unlikely of people, family. Not by blood, but in the journey they shared. A journey that Ashe realized she wasn’t alone on, and that she did not have to walk by herself. As Ashe finished her full explanation, Catherine seemed to know just what to say. 

“You can’t doubt yourself just because you don’t think you’re ‘womanly’ enough to live as you. Look at the women in your class. Dorothea, Petra, Leonie, hell, even Letty and me. There isn’t a single damn thing in the way we express ourselves that we have in common.” 

“Thank you, Catherine.” 

“It’s nothing, hun. Do you want me to come with, to talk to the rest of the class?” Ashe shook her head no. 

“I think I wanna have those talks on my own.” Catherine nodded, smiling ear to ear. 

Ashe spent most of that night talking to the rest of her class. Most took it well, some, like Caspar, took some time to understand exactly what Ashe was trying to say, but was supportive enough even if Ashe had a feeling he still didn’t quite get it. Leonie, was the one she was most nervous about, and when she finished talking, Leonie, in her typical fashion, shoved Ashe over on the bed and harangued her for not coming and talking to her sooner. The two laughed, and Ashe found she really had needed it. 

That day was long and draining, but it was so very worth it. Later on, Ashe and Leonie even took their dinners out to the back staircase of the Dining Hall, sat on the steps and looked at the stars as they ate their food away from the crowd. It was Leonie’s idea, when Ashe had mentioned being too tired to be around so many people. Leonie figured Jeralt could forgive her not exactly “putting a pin in it” as well as she ought to. But hey, she had just learned she likes girls, she figured that revelation earned her a little leeway. 

Dorothea smiled smugly to herself, sipping her tea as she looked out at the water flowing into the fishing pond from a small bench by the edge of one of the quartyards, a very particular courtyard, in fact. She had had a long, busy week thus far but today would hopefully make it all worth it. It was nearly ten in the morning, and she’d been happily sitting there, sipping her tea as, by the damndest of luck, her professor and the head of her house idly chatted away, perfectly within earshot. Dorothea wondered if she ought to feel guilty at her eavesdropping yet again, but she figured there was nothing to be helped. Were these incompetent jackasses left to themselves they’d probably putz around eachother for half a decade before finally daring to ask the other out. 

“So, how have the preparations for the dance competition been going so far?” Edelgard’s voice caught Dorothea’s ears, and said songstress couldn’t help but grin as she realized this was the deciding moment. 

“I haven’t even been able to begin.” Byleth groaned, before heaving a heavy sigh. 

“Why not? Isn’t the Archbishop expecting your decision tomorrow?” 

“Please, don’t remind me. Everyone I have asked has been an adamant no.” Dorothea had to fight the urge to quirk a brow. ‘Adamant’ was one of the biggest words she’d ever heard Byleth use.

“Who have you asked?” 

“Everyone. Absolutely everyone. Dorothea said she was too busy working on some magic relating to her weapon throwing, Ashe, bless her heart, just slammed the door in my face, Leonie walked away, cackling, in the middle of our conversation.”

“In all honesty Professor, you really ought to have expected that reaction from her.” Edelgard teased. 

“I’m aware. That’s why she was the last one I asked.” Dorothea was proud that her hard work had not been for nothing. She had spent hours, days even harassing every student into promising to refuse the spot in the competition. 

“Then what will you do?” Edelgard asked, completely oblivious. Dorotea could only roll her eyes. Goddess above, these two.

“Well, I was actually going to ask if you’d be willing to take the spot.” Byleth said, nonchalantly. 

“What?” Edelgard, based on the rustling fabric and shifting chair, must have shot up in her seat. 

“Well, I have to put someone in that competition, and with everyone else refusing, you’re really the only person left who I could.” 

“I’m not sure, Professor. I’m not a bad dancer, but I just don’t know if i’m good enough to win.” Edelgard admitted. 

“We don’t need to win, I just need to be able to put down your name, and we can go over some basics over the next few weeks.” 

“But where did you even learn to dance? Take no offense, Professor, but given your background you’re the last person I’d expect to take dance lessons from.” Dorothea rolled her eyes again at Edelgard’s comment. Wonderful, Edie, go on and insult the woman. That will get you into her pants for sure. 

“I read a book, I figure that’s enough to at least get to ‘bearable enough to enter”.” Byleth said, casually. 

“...a book?” 

“Yes?” 

“You read a single book, and intend to give me dance lessons?” 

“Yes, is that not clear?” Byleth completely missed the point of the question. 

“...No, it’s clear, and very ‘you’. Fine, I’ll do it.” Dorothea grinned ear to ear, gathering her things and proceeding to leave. She figured they deserved some privacy from there. 

She took a short while to place her dishes in the washbin at the end of the dining hall, before moving into the administrative building, and proceeding to the stairs. A few minutes later, she walked in, bold as brass, to the office of one Professor Manuela. She sat in the chair across from the desk, as the woman in question set down her book. 

“Well?” Manuela asked, looking at her inquisitively. 

“They took the bait. Hook, line, and sinker. Edelgard is going to take lessons from Byleth, and she’ll be taking the slot in the competition for the Eagles.” Dorothea beamed with pride as she spoke. 

“My my, miss Dorothea, that certainly seems like a win to me. Congratulations, your ludicrous plan actually succeeded.” 

“Thank you, Professor. I’m just glad I managed to convince Leonie to drop that ridiculous bribe she was demanding.” Dorothea lamented, remembering the smug orange haired girls demands. 

“What made her step down?” 

“Telling her that if she didn’t say no she’d have to dance.” Dorothea mused, crossing her legs, interlocking her fingers as she rested both hands on her knee. She was absolutely ecstatic. She loved when a plan came together. Manuela gave her a questioning look. “Leonie is a wonderful woman, a bit brash for my taste, but I can see why Ashe is so smitten. But, she is not one to think through her actions very well. So, yes, she did need me to point that out to her.” Dorothea explained. Manuela nodded, seeming to realize something before shaking her head and looking back to the girl in front of her. 

“Wait a minute, her and miss Duran?” Dorothea nodded. “When in the hell did that happen?” 

“I’m not sure. All I know is, I saw Ashe walking her happy little ass up to Leonie’s bedroom with a plate of food, and I never saw her walk out until the next morning.I’ve also seen at least one of them ‘dissapear’ in a similar manner into the other’s room for the night at least three times this last week. I don’t quite think they’re ‘an item’ yet, but I doubt it’ll take much longer.” 

“Your class, I swear.” Dorothea just smiled, shrugging. On that she couldn’t comment. She was guilty as any of the others, numerically speaking even more so. But it certainly was wonderful for team morale. 

Later that same day, Catherine sat on Seteth’s back in the middle of the training field. The Wyvern was snoring peacefully, undisturbed by the large woman currently waiting atop her. When Catherine saw Ashe approaching, she tossed herself off of the old girl and landed with a heavy thud and clank of armored boots on dirt. She hadn’t seen the kid in several days, her having had to cancel training to spend some time talking to the rest of the people in the classes she regularly interacted with. 

Catherine stomped over to her pupil and saw her hair was pinned back with a small hair pin, a purple flower standing out against her shaggy silver hair. Seeing that made Catherine’s smile even wider. She couldn’t help herself, wrapping the shorter woman in a hug, the inertia practically knocking the two onto the ground. 

“How’d it go? I wanna hear absolutely everything! I swear if anyone gave you shit I’ll feed them to Seteth alive. That bitch will eat fucking anything-” Catherine realized she was still hugging Ashe as she spoke, and proceeded to let go, backing up awkwardly and scratching at the back of her head. “Sorry, I um...I probably should have asked before doing that.” Ashe looked at her for a second, and then started laughing. 

“Everyone was fine, Catherine, don’t worry. Some people were a bit...confused, but their hearts were in the right place. Bernadetta even gave me this.” Ashe tapped the pin in her hair, and Catherine only beamed brighter. Seteth had woken up at some point, lazily lumbering over to them, now licking Ashe’s face.

“Looks like the old bitch missed you. Come on, you got a long day ahead.” Catherine said, walking back to the spot in the field best suited to their training. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Ashe said, pulling Seteth by her reins. 

It was that following Sunday that Edelgard awoke to a knocking on her door. She dressed quickly, finding her Professor leaned against the doorframe, a pastry box under one arm, a music box under the other, and a still steaming tea pot in her hand. 

“Are you ready?” Byleth asked, holding up the pot of tea and nearly dropping it onto the ground. 

“Yes, absolutely!” Edelgard tried not to sound too nervous, but overcorrected and felt she’d come across as too excited. However the Professor seemed unbothered, handing her the teapot and guiding her out of the building. Edelgard followed close behind, and they chatted idly amongst themselves as they walked to the courtyard and took their usual seats. 

“So, I’m hoping you’re not too nervous about the competition then?” Byleth said, taking a glass of tea and a small blueberry scone. She had found last week that blueberry was rather tasty, and she adamantly refused to touch Raspberry ever again. 

“I’m not bothered by it. As you said, there’s no desperate need to win, just to compete. If we don’t succeed, then it will be no great loss.” Edelgard mused, sipping her own tea and downing a raspberry tart in a single bite. She’d missed these conversations, and was just happy to be back with her Professor. 

“Well, I am glad you’re not bothered. I do wish we had time for more than one practice session before the competition tomorrow. In all honesty, the only reason i’d be interested at all in winning is curiosity in how the hell one mixes dance and combat. That sounds either overly complicated, or downright ridiculous.” Byleth shook her head, rolling her eyes as she took another sip of tea. 

“I do suppose that would be quite interesting to see. However, as I’m assuming i’d be the one to take that course, I might be a bit concerned as well.” Edelgard topped off their cups, returning the steaming pot to the table and enjoying the smell of the fresh brewed tea. The scent of the citrus was absolutely wonderful. 

“In all honesty, I don’t see how something as pleasant as dancing could mix with killing. It almost feels barbaric.” Edelgard quirked her brow. ‘Barbaric’ coming from her Professor was quite a lamentation. “What? I’m not allowed to think some things are barbaric?” 

“Well, I’m just surprised. You’ve always been the type to fight with everything you had. I suppose I assumed you didn’t think anything was too barbaric for a fight.” Edelgard said quietly. 

“I do, actually. Quite a bit. There is a difference between putting everything you have into surviving, and taking pleasure in killing. Dancing and fighting almost feels like that to me. How can one do something like dance while surrounded by death?” Byleth seemed to stare off in the distance. “I have never held back in a fight, but I have always tried to kill quickly, at least then I spare those intent to kill me a painful death.” Edelgard saw the professor’s eyes fog over for a minute, her upper lip curling for a single instant in a sneer. In another moment, her Professor’s eye’s returned her gaze, and she shook her head as she took another drink. “My apologies...that feels like the type of thing you don’t really discuss over tea.” 

“No, but then again when have you ever done anything as it was meant to be done, Professor?” Byleth chuckled , chewing on her cheek a bit. 

“I suppose you’re right. We’re a clear enough example of that, aren’t we?” Byleth realized what exactly she had as they both looked away from each other, sipping their tea as a means of buying time to try to think of what to say. 

Last week, they had managed to go the entire afternoon, right up till sunset, talking and catching up. They’d both expertly avoided the one topic they’d said they would discuss the next time they had tea together, and that day it felt like there was nothing else they really could discuss. Were the dance competition based on dancing around the point, they would have won in seconds. The point hung in the air between them, like a dagger dangling from twine that they were watching slowly break under the weight. The only question was who would be the one to finally break the line. 

Edelgard, in all honesty, was petrified. She knew the overwhelming likelihood, even with what her Professor had said before, that this was not going to end in the way she wanted it to. First of all, she wasn’t even sure exactly what she wanted in the first place. Second of all, there was her mission, one that still could threaten at any moment to put the two of them on opposing sides of a battlefield. Perhaps it was better left to just remain unsaid. 

Byleth felt her emotions swirling in her stomach, right at its peak where it felt as if her heart and insides had melted and now were whipping around inside of her like a storm. How in the hell were they supposed to talk about this? Byleth had no idea what to say, she didn’t even have names for the vast majority of what she was feeling now, besides fear. Finally, she decided something needed to be said, in a sense reaching out to cut the twine herself. 

“Edelgard….” But, as seemed so common, she was cut off. 

“So, shall we begin the lessons, then?” Edelgard quickly said, and thus Byleth’s hand was grabbed by the wrist before it ever got close to the dagger and the twine. Byleth was happy to have an excuse to not talk about it. 

“Absolutely.” She said, standing quickly and winding the music box, sitting it on the edge of the foundation of the Gazeebo before gesturing for Edelgard to move onto the grass with her. She did so, and moved a bit closer, stepping onto the grass and standing beside her Professor. A blue eyebrow arched up at her, questioning what exactly she was doing. 

“What?” Edelgard asked. 

“Do...Edelgard do you expect me to just tell you what to do and watch you dance around in circles by yourself?” Byleth asked, looking at the way Edelgard had positioned herself. This made the girl blush. Byleth waved the girl closer, offering a hand. “Here, let me walk you through the steps, at least.” Edelgard nodded, reaching out and taking the offered hand, stepping closer toward her Professor, resting her hands on the woman’s shoulders as she in turn took one hand and rested the other at the very top of her lower back. 

Byleth began walking her through the steps. They were simple enough, but the entire time Edelgard was completely focused on the fact she had gone from the frying pine into the proverbial fire. She had avoided that conversation, but now was literally dancing around that topic with her Professor, about as close as she could possibly be to the woman. She tried to ignore the scent of soil, salt and lavender that filled her nose. Why in the hell did she smell like that? It smelled like graveyard dirt, like flowers on a freshly closed grave, why in the name of the goddess did she find that scent pleasant? 

As they finished walking through the steps, Edelgard felt like she had a decent grasp, but for some reason she was having issues stumbling over her own feet at times. They began speeding up a bit, dancing to the tune of the music box.That is where the trouble started. The first few steps around were none too difficult, but they were clumsy, out of sync, and awkward. Byleth kept herself standing for a few short loops, but soon she tripped over her own two feet, sending her out and smacking her head against the hard wood pillar of the gazebo. 

“Fuck!” Byleth yelled, clutching the spot above her eye that had struck the pillar. 

“Professor!” Edelgard said, quickly moving to her side as she sat on the edge of the foundation. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” Byleth said, sighing as she kept pressure to the aching spot. 

“Let me see, then.” Edelgard grabbed the book Byleth had brought, stashed away in the pastry box. She wiped away the crumbs, opening the book and looking at the various notes the professor had made on the loose papers within. Edelgard read through the short segment she’d marked, and soon enough figured she might have an idea of what was going wrong. Several minutes had passed already, and Byleth was mostly back to her senses, at the very least the courtyard was spinning much slower than before. “I think I may have it…” 

Edelgard walked out, grabbing her Professor’s hand and dragging her back out to the courtyard. She took her Professor’s arms, guiding on to her shoulder, and taking the other in one of her white gloved hands before laying the other on the middle of the professor’s back. 

Edelgard started walking through the steps, this time taking the lead role, and things went miraculously well. They found a rhythm with the music of the music box, and Edelgard found herself less nervous, more confident in her steps as time went on. Byleth, strangely enough, found it rather easy to follow Edelgard’s lead, following through with her steps and they spun around the small, hedged-in courtyard. 

After what felt like both hours and seconds, as the two dance partners grew a bit more confident in themselves and in each other, they got a bit theatrical. Edelgard, despite the difference in their heights, even managed to spin her Professor once or twice. She had to slide her hand back up a bit, however, as after the second spin it had slid a bit farther down than likely was proper. 

A short distance away, in Manuela’s office, the aforementioned medic was peering at the duo through the large glass window looking out over the Monastery grounds, which happened to have a lovely view of a certain gazebo. Beside her, a grumbling Dorothea was rifling through her coin purse, before handing the older woman a small stack of gold coins. 

“I can not believe you were right.” she muttered, absolutely agog at it. 

“What can I say, Thea, I know how to read women, and your professor screams ‘I don’t take the lead’ in more ways than one.” 

“Ok, I think that’s enough dancing.” Byleth said, chuckling to herself as she sat back down on the edge of the gazebo, Edelgard not far behind her, giggling as she took her own seat. They had just heard the bell tolling 5 in the afternoon, meaning they’d been dancing for at least 3 hours since their last break. At some point, without either of them realizing, the music box had stopped playing and they’d just kept on, dancing in sync without a moment’s hesitation. 

“I suppose that is enough training.” Edelgard teased, her Professor’s tunic being quite soaked in sweat from the exercise.

“Perhaps there is something to this ‘dancing in combat’ idea after all. That was more grueling than any laps I’ve ever run before.” Byleth muttered, reaching up and grabbing the long past cold teapot, pouring the room temperature tea into her mouth directly. 

“Professor!” Edelgard said, slapping her arm. Byleth proceeded to spill the tea all over her face and tunic, the cool winter air making it a quite frigid experience. Edelgard looked horrified as she tried to apologize, only for Byleth to cut her off.

“I’m sorry, I was so rude not to offer you some.” Byleth said, leaning over and dumping the entire remaining contents of the teapot onto her. 

“Professor!!!” Edelgard screamed as Byleth set the tea pot aside and ducked out of the grasp of the now fuming-pissed Edelgard. 

“Are you kidding me?” Dorothea practically screamed out the window, watching the now tea-covered duo running across the somehow still mostly deserted quartyard. 

“That certainly is one way to flirt, I suppose.” Manuela muttered, looking at the duo. “But usually when I try that trick it is followed more with something akin to ‘hear, let me clean those for you. Shall we go back to my chambers?’ and not fleeing from what appears to be malicious intent.” Dorothea felt an overwhelming urge to smack her forehead against the wall, or perhaps their two viewing subject’s heads instead. 

Sadly, or perhaps by design, that afternoon passed and the dagger on it’s twine remained dangling for just one more week. No matter how many ‘opportunities alone’ Dorothea and Manuela seemed to concoct, the utterly oblivious duo simply refused to give the topic any discussion. Even following Edelgard’s victory at the dance competition, when in a moment of complete lack of thought the two had leapt into each other's arms in celebration, Byleth quite literally picking Edelgard up off the ground as the class could only watch and try no to stare too openly, the two seemed completely oblivious. At one point, Manuela and Dorothea had debated if perhaps the two women were playing a prank on them, and simply acting oblivious to aggravating their two ‘guardian angels’. But Manuela put a quick end to that. As she put it: “My dear, you can’t fake being this stupid.” 

Edelgard thought a thousand times about how she wanted so badly to admit everything to her Professor, not just ending at her feelings, but her double life, her mission, everything. But every time she considered it, one of two things would happen, she would find herself thinking about the absolutely feral look of rage her Professor’s eyes had held, lunging at her with a blade intent to slaughter her, and when even that failed, and she thought that if that happened again she had no one to blame but herself, she was held back even more by the echoes of Thales warning. 

Byleth found herself sat on her desk, late one night not two days before the ball, and felt as if she were torn in two, conflicted about discussing everything. She had no idea what she wanted to say, nor how to say it. That same swirling in her stomach never seemed to pass. Some days, it focused more on the empty pang she would feel passing her father’s office, or when she might notice the weight of the silver chain that hadn’t left her neck since the night she had found it. That longing for a father that wasn’t there, the father she failed to save, the father she had known all her life and yet only truly understood a few short weeks before his demise, begging her to smile on his deathbed.

She wondered if it was even proper for her to be trying to parse out something so trivial as affection, or whatever it was she felt towards Edelgard, when she had buried her father such a short time ago. Perhaps guilt wasn’t quite the right emotion, but it was certainly mixed in. she found herself wishing she could speak to her father, wishing he could help her parse the mess of unknown, unnamed feelings that seemed to jab pitchforks into her insides and stir them around. 

Goddess, she’d give anything to speak to him one more time. To hear him tell a story about her mother, or to awkwardly stumble over his words as he tried to ask how things were going with her and Catherine. She’d trade years to have just one more of those quiet, happy moments with him. She could remember being a child, riding on her father’s horse as the brigade marched to a new base camp, and having him there, holding the reins and pointing at the various animals, plants, and landmarks they’d pass as he tried to teach her the essentials of navigation. Those moments had seemed so benal, like so much nothing, back then, but now she knew there would never be more, and that made her heart ache and her eyes burn. 

Goddess… She knew those prayers would never be answered. Whatever she’d done to infuriate Sothis, her father’s death had made it clear the deity had no intention of returning. First her mother she never knew, and then Sothis, and now her father… more and more and more she felt as if she were growing truly, overwhelmingly alone. 

There was a knock at the door. 

“Hey, Letty, you in here?” Catherine called as she opened the door. Byleth quickly tried to wipe her tears and sat up as she saw her partner walk into the room, that cocky smirk firmly in place. “There you are, babe! I’ve been looking all over for you. Come on, Joe and Freddy are heading into town for some food again and said they’d love to have us.” Byleth couldn’t help the smile that peaked at the corner of her lips. 

“Oh, ok, wait for me outside. I’ll be out in just a second. I need to pack up.” Byleth saw Catherine nod, taking her cue and stepping out. Byleth quickly tried to clean her cheeks off, tossing her books into the drawer of her desk haphazardly before standing and walking out, closing the door tight behind her. She turned to see Catherine leaned against the heavy stone archway, looking at her with a hint of concern. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Catherine asked, Byleth looked as if she were going to try to feign ignorance, but Catherine knew her too well for that. She just shook her head no. Catherine nodded, and gave her a weak smile. “Do you want me to tell the boys we’re staying in tonight?” Again, no. “Ok then, come on. Let get going before the little fucking twink gets into trouble without me.” Catherine said, grabbing Byleth’s hand and dragging the professor behind her towards the entrance to the Monastery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, had to include a lil bit of angst/comfort in there to show Byleth is in fact not over her father’s death instantly, and she is still struggling to figure out her feelings but she’s trying to be healthier, and cat is trying to help. 
> 
> Honestly, I’m so amazed I have actually made it far enough to write this scene. It feels like only a few weeks ago I had the idea for Ashe to be trans in this fic, and her actually coming out was some distant, far flung scene. Now holy shit, were actually getting to the ball!!! Very very excited to see how y’all like this weeks chapter, and I hope you all had as great a time reading as I did writing. I really wanna hear folks thoughts on alllllll the shit that happened here, so please don’t hesitate to comment. Y’all comments are so encouraging to me and my writing. 
> 
> Also, if folks ever feel like I should tag or mark certain topics or parts, lemme know and I’ll try to work on it.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage


	20. Chapter 20: Broken Smiles (My All)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night of the annual Ball, and the Black Eagles, with all the strange friends they've gathered along the way prepare for their night of fun. Ashe finds herself quite the center of attention, while Dorothea drags Catherine (quite literally) into a scheme set to make Edelgard and Byleth finally talk about their feelings, to relatively mixed results. But, that's not the only confession Garreg Mach sees that night. 
> 
> When the party fades, and the morning dawns to Garreg Mach in chaos, what happens when Catherine, Edelgard, and Hubert wake up having been left behind? 
> 
> Who is that familiar voice, floating in the darkness? 
> 
> What in the hell happened to Byleth's hands?
> 
> "One more chance to give and that's all I have. All I have left in my heart"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell, 20 chapters. That's absolutely batshit, and I want to thank you all for being so awesome through fucking 5 months of this wack ass story that started as a dipshit idea for "What if you had Catherine, Byleth, and Edelgard fuck?". This chapter, like I say every goddess-damned week, is one i'm hella worried about, especially cus I know some shit here is gonna be even more out of the box than usual. But, I think that you all will enjoy this weeks update, or at the very least I hope you do! Heads up, there is some body-horror elements in today's chapter. 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage
> 
> I'll give my usual plug to The Unqualified 1 (She's anything but) https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1

“You know, Kitten, I do wonder how you managed to get this injured without getting any blood on your suit.” Manuela mused, helping Catherine’s suit jacket off before the vest and blouse. Her shoulder was clearly dislocated, but luckily with magic it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to patch up, good as new. However, she was not complaining about having a bit of extra time with the now-topless knight. It had been a while since they’d ‘seen’ each other, and Manuela was rather certain there was a certain blue-haired reason for that, but she wasn’t one to pry. All joking aside, she’d been taking a break from ‘company’ for the past few weeks, and she was starting to wonder if it was going to her head. 

“Those stairs attacked me, Mani, I swear. Came out of nowhere.” Catherine taunted through grit teeth, her shoulder hurting like a son of a bitch. Manuela rested a hand on the injured joint, healing magic flowing through her as she stood in front of her patient and began rearranging the nerves, muscle, tendons and ligaments, starting the process of alligning the shoulder. 

“I’m sure they did. And dear goddess, do not start calling me that again. ” Manuela ordered, popping the shoulder down and back into place without even a grunt from the knight. She did however grit her teeth at the sensation of bone sliding on bone. Manuela moved to the side, working on replacing the moved muscles and nerves as she tried to ensure she wasn’t sending the woman off with a useless limb. 

“Well, Joseph is going to skin my ass alive for that damn coat.” Catherine muttered, shaking her head at the strange sensation of her muscle slithering beneath her own skin, not of her control. Manuela moved to stand behind the woman. “And what, I can’t bring back Mani but you can use your abomination of a pet name? Seems rather unfair.”

“When was it ever ‘fair’ between us, Kitten? Considering I’m the one fixing your little ‘whoops’, I’d say you can bite your tongue and deal with it. But Joseph seems like a nice enough man, I’m sure he’ll...” Manuela’s sentence sputtered out as she saw the knight’s back. She had seen warrior’s bodies plenty of times, both on one of her treatment cots and in other less ‘professional’ settings, but Catherine's back was miles above even the worst of what she had seen before. Long, interweaving lines of scar tissue covered the overwhelming majority of her back and shoulders. There were several areas worse than others. Her shoulder blades were rather bare, while her upper shoulders and her lower back were almost unintelligible between scar and skin. She could also see a few on the woman’s backside. 

Manuela noticed all of the marks seemed to be in groups of four, all moving mostly parallel to each other. She knew what they were, or at least had a good idea. She had patched up similar, if much shallower marks on her own assorted bedfellows when she got a bit too ‘enthusiastic’. They were scratch marks. 

That explained the distribution of them, at least, along all of the areas one could easily reach if they were, say, laid on their back with the recipient between their legs, to pick a completely random example. Those were the areas completely covered in the marks, while the less easy-to-reach parts were more bare, if still marked occasionally. 

Had they been fresh, and much more shallow, Manuela would have just written it off and assumed that Professor Eisner, or Byleth as she had begun insisting everyone call her, was a bit into the ‘rough stuff’ and they’d had a little fun some time prior. But this...this was something else entirely. They were too pristine for nails. Nail marks would be jagged, shallow, and the scars, if they existed at all, wouldn’t be nearly as well-defined. These looked as if they came from something sharp, like claws. The way they looked, it also seemed clear there were scars on top of scars on top of scars. 

There also appeared to be discolored skin around the marks, and some patches of healthy skin in the middle of several lines of scar tissue, indicating healing magic, even if it did seem sloppy. Not as if the healer was a novice, in fact by her guess whoever would have healed these marks would need to be a master of faith magic, even more than her. The healing looked ‘sloppy’ in that it looked as if the caster had chosen to heal the bare minimum. Perhaps to keep the marks from reopening? Or causing pain? Whatever it was, it had clearly been going on for some time by the sheer number of marks. She tried to remember if these had been there during her and Catherine’s last ‘session’, and found herself realizing that she couldn’t remember ever seeing the woman’s back. 

“Hey, Mani, you ok back there? I have to get moving if I don’t want to be late” Catherine said, looking over her shoulder. Manuela shook herself out of her train of thought and focused on her. 

“I...yes, I’m fine. Kitten, I just got a bit distracted. What in the hell happened to your back? It’s covered in scars.” Manuela asked. Catherine stood, looking at her a bit confused as she began putting on the somehow still blindingly white button down shirt she had been wearing. 

“Beats the hell out of me. Letty was asking about that a while ago.I don’t know anything specific, but I figured I probably just took a shot or two to the back on a mission a few too many times.” Catherine said, tying the red tie Joe had insisted she wear in place before grabbing the suit jacket off of the cot and looking it over. The shoulder was torn open. She’d have to go with just the vest. “Would you mind if I left this here and picked it up in the morning to patch it before Joe kills me?” 

Manuela looked a bit frustrated. It was as if the woman was determined to completely ignore what she was asking about. But she figured the knight had other things on her mind with the ball and all currently starting up below them, and as stubborn as she was there would be no dragging her away from that train of thought. 

“Yes, that’s fine. But we will be talking about this tomorrow!” Manuela said adamantly. Catherine tossed the jacket back onto the cot and practically sprinted from the room. Manuela swore to herself. If that woman fell down the stairs again she would have to fix her own damn shoulder. She liked things better when she could put a gag in Catherine’s mouth if she started getting too lippy, it made things so much easier. 

Byleth heard a knock on the door to her classroom, and opened to find Catherine stood in the doorway, slightly sweaty. 

“Hey, sorry i’m late. There was an incident. Some dipshit fell down the stairs in the administrative building and I had to get them to Manuela’s office.” Catherine explained, ignoring the fact she was the ‘dipshit’ in question. 

“You’re fine, Cat. The class hasn’t even gotten here yet. Calm yourself.” Byleth noticed that Catherine was distracted. “Can I help you?”

“I uh, I’ve...I’ve never seen you in a skirt before.” Catherine said, looking her over. She was a bit shocked at how ornate it was. It was clearly from the academy, having the same black fabric and gold lining that all the officer’s jackets had, but the trim the jacket ended at her waist only to flow into a pencil skirt that had Catherine averting her eyes to not stare too blatantly. She had enough trouble with the way these pants fit her as is without any more ‘issues’. “You look lovely.” She said, walking over to Byleth, leaning against the desk beside her. 

“Manuela gave it to me. Damn near threatened to skin me if I didn’t wear it.She said my combat attire wouldn’t be appropriate for a formal event.” 

“Well, I do agree clothing you’ve worn while killing people probably isn’t the best for a fancy dance.” Catherine said. 

“I couldn’t agree more, Catherine. However, I am really not sure if I want to know why that is the topic of conversation.” Edelgard piped up from the doorway, making Catherine practically leap out of her skin as she saw the Eagles and a few guests wandering in. “What in the goddess’s name are you wearing, Catherine?” She asked, gesturing to the baggy slacks, button down and vest Cathrine was wearing. 

“Hey, watch it,Princess.You don’t want to start tossing insults while wearing opera gloves. ” Catherine replied, teasing the girl for her current attire. She turned to Byleth, explaining the outfit. “I had to steal mine from Joe. Thankfully he wasn’t too much bigger than me in his golden years.” 

“Do you really not own anything besides your armor?” Another voice piped up, as Ashe shot the woman a shit eating grin that the rest of the class found creepily familiar. Leonie in particular found herself looking between Ashe and Catherine quickly, concern evident on her face. 

“Don’t you go thinking I won’t whoop your ass just because you’re wearing a dress, kid.” Catherine shot back. 

“Catherine.” Byleth said sternly.

“Sorry, Letty. Ashe, you do look very pretty tonight.” Ashe grinned and blushed a bit, scatching at the back of her head, a soft blue A-line dress giving her the illusion of hips and a matching sweater helping her feel a bit better about her rather broad shoulders. 

“Wow, that was all it took?” Edelgard asked, smiling slightly at the eye roll that drew from Catherine. 

“Can I go to sleep, yet?” Linhardt asked, pulling at the collar of his rather sickly green button down. 

“No, you promised me at least one dance tonight, then we can call it.” Caspar replied, helping Linhardt straighten his collar back into place. 

“I do agree, however, that this all seems a bit ridiculous just to celebrate the school not having collapsed for another year.” Hubert muttered. 

“Oh, let your coffee be bitter and not you, Hubert.” Ferdinand replied, his arm looped into Hubert’s own. It was unclear to Byleth if the two had coordinated their outfits, or if the fact that, aside from one wearing an orange vest and the other a black one, their outfits both consisted of the same uniform slacks and white button down. 

“Besides, given how much nonsense has happened over the past few months, the fact this school is still standing is just short of a miracle.” Dorothea chimed in, sat on one desk with her feet on another. Hew outfit was a similar crimson to Edelgard’s dress, but was simply a blouse and pencil skirt as opposed to a mid-calf length evening gown and gloves. 

“I agree. This school seems much more… exciting than would ever be allowed in Brigid.'' said Petra, toying with a tassel dangling from her slightly modified evening wear dress, rather similar to Byleth’s but with a few long strands of Brigian beadwork strung here and there. 

“Plus there’s other stuff to celebrate! Like me getting to meet all of you!” Flayn said, smiling from one corner of the room as she looked over at Mercedes. Byleth wondered if Flayn even owned other clothes, as she was simply wearing her uniform. Mercedes just seemed happy to be here, stood beside Flayn in a simple cream colored dress.

“That is true.” Bernadetta practically whispered. “It has been a really nice year, everything withstanding, getting to get to know you all.” She smiled over to Dorothea and Petra in particular. 

“I couldn’t agree more.” No one missed the small smile and look Byleth gave Catherine and Edelgard as she spoke up. “This year has been...difficult. To put it lightly. But, having you all as my class, as my students, as my friends and my comrades has been truly wonderful. I’m proud of all of you, and you should be proud of yourselves.” Byleth finished, coughing a bit as she tried not to let her emotions get the better of her. 

“You little punks are pretty all right in my book, and I’ve been proud to train alongside all of you and to get to kick your asses so you can get better at getting your asses kicked.” Catherine said, leaned against Byleth’s desk with her hands in her pockets. That last line earned her a few assorted jeers from the students, but mostly kidding ones. Mostly. 

“I mean, there’s nothing saying we can’t come back for the Millenium Festival too.” Ashe said timidly. 

“You mean like some kind of class reunion?” Dorothea asked. 

“Oh, wonderful!” Flayn cheered. “... well, I guess that wouldn’t technically involve us then…” She looked over to Mercedes.

“There’s no saying it can’t.” Byleth offered, earning another big grin from the girl. 

“Then it’s settled. We’ll gather ourselves back for the millennium festival, and see just how much we’ve all grown in the years to come.” Edelgard said, determined, if distracted. 

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Byleth said, earning some cheers, nods, and various other signs of agreement from everyone in the room. 

“Come on, everyone! The dance will be starting any minute now!” Dorothea called out, waving everyone out of the room. The class quickly migrated out, and Catherine found herself beside Edelgard and Byleth as they walked the long path to the ball room.

“What all do you actually do at a ball?” Byleth asked, messing with loose fabric of her skirt, clearly unpracticed in wearing them. 

“Do you mean besides dancing, Professor?” Edelgard offered, making Catherine snicker a bit. 

“Well, I could assume that. But what else? I don’t quite understand how you can fill a night with nothing but dancing.” Byleth wondered, the idea completely foreign to her. 

“There’s food, and wine, and all the fun of getting shitfaced and seeing how long it takes anyone to notice.” Catherine teased, but Byleth seemed to take her completely seriously. 

“Oh, ok! So it’s like a tavern after a mission. That sounds like something I can do.” Catherine laughed as Edelgard looked horrified, visibly fighting the urge to smack herself in the forehead. 

“Professor, please don’t listen to her. She’s a bad influence.” Edelgard shot Catherine a glare, but the smile she had on made it clear she wasn’t too serious. 

“Oh, bite me, Princess. You could learn a thing or two from me.” 

“That seems unlikely.” Edelgard shot back. 

“I swear, you are like cats and dogs.” Byleth interjected between the two. 

“Considering the last ‘lesson’ I saw involving you, Catherine, I’m rather hesitant to sign up for any.” This made Byleth lose it laughing, and Edelgard swore Catherine’s cheeks were just a bit red. 

“Hey, now don’t you go! Ow!” Catherine howled as she was interrupted and quite literally dragged off by the ear by Dorothea. Where she had come from no one had seen. “Ow, shit, calm down there, you diva! Ow! Don’t fucking slap me!” 

“Should we help her?” Byleth asked, the remaining two having paused to watch Dorothea dragging away the knight. 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Edelgard said, waving it off. Byleth just shrugged and followed on. 

“You know, that was a rather mean spirited joke.” Byleth teased, making Edelgard roll her eyes yet again.

“Believe me, she deserved it and I could have done worse.” 

“What did she do?” Byleth asked, curious as to what exactly could have drawn Catherine that much loathing, even jokingly. 

“Oh, she was simply herself, a jackass.” Byleth laughed again, and Edelgard adored the sound. She saw that Byleth’s smile, which usually was a light, thin thing that remained closed, was now something wider that showed her teeth, several showing signs of chipping, along with what appeared to be one tooth missing entirely toward the very edge of the smile. Truly, a brawler’s grin. It was oddly cute, in it’s own special way.“You look lovely tonight, Professor.”

“Thank you, Edelgard. You do as well. But this damned jacket is going to make me sweat straight through it even in this cold.” Byleth remarked, tugging at the collar of her shirt. She took a moment and looked around, spotting two student’s in particular before pointing them out to Edelgard. “Do you think Ferdinand and Hubert planned that little outfit coordination, or were they just lucky?” 

“Oh, absolutely planned. I heard Hubert discussing tie color and proper shoe coordination through the walls. I had to listen to him bemoan Ferdinand’s taste for the color orange for hours.” This made them both laugh, which they quickly stopped when they noticed the two men in question looking in their direction. 

“Dorothea what the fuck!?” Catherine griped as she was dragged into a small ally between two buildings. 

“Shut up. I’ve had a long few weeks because your girlfriend has the emotional intellect of a damn boulder, and you’re going to help us fix that! or at least get around it.” Catherine looked at her, confused. 

“Byleth isn’t my…” 

“I don’t have time for you to be in denial!!” Dorothea cut her off. “Now listen, here’s what you’re going to do.” 

“Finally manage to escape the big scary opera diva?” Byleth teased as Catherine walked into the ballroom, rubbing at her still sore ear. It’d been nearly half an hour and it still hurt like hell. 

“Oh, I escaped a while ago. Found a couple of student’s trying to get drunk behind the fish pond and had to put the fear of the goddess into them.” Byleth groaned as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Oh don’t worry, I didn’t seriously mame anyone. Want a drink?” Catherine asked, pulling a flask from her vest pocket that was clearly a new addition

“Small mercies, I guess. And no, I’m fine. ” 

“I don’t know. I mean, not trying to call her fat or anything, but I don’t think I’d call Mercy ‘small’.” Byleth looked at her, confused. Catherine shook her head, and caught a calm smile from one Dorothea as she heard the band end one song and begin preparations for another. “Would you care to dance?” 

“I don’t know, aren’t chaperones supposed to watch the dance, not join it?” 

“Cmon, Letty, the goddess isn’t gonna smite us for unwinding a bit.” Catherine said, offering her hand. Byleth shrugged and took it as the two joined the crowd moving to the dance floor. 

“Hey Edie!” Dorothea greeted in her sing-song voice. 

“Oh, hello Dorothea. Did you need something?” Edelgard asked, only for her hand to be forcefully grabbed and her to be dragged onto the dance floor. 

“Why yes, I’d love to dance!” Dorothea said, ignoring the obvious confusion on her classmate’s face as she muscled her way into one specific spot, exactly beside Catherine and Byleth. 

“What exactly is everyone all grouped up for?” Byleth asked quietly to her partner, indicating how people seemed to be arranged in groups of three dancing pairs. Their trio consisted of them, Edelgard and Dorothea, and Flayn and Mercedes. Catherine whispered back. 

“Don’t worry about it...” 

“...Just follow my lead.” Dorothea finished answering Edelgard’s question as the music began to play. 

Dorothea took Edelgard’s hand in one of her own and rested her other on Edelgard’s lower back, taking the lead as the two began dancing together, the other two groups in their trio having done the same. The three all spun around each other, one group occasionally moving across the space and between the other two. 

Edelgard, Flayn and Byleth, being unused to Faergus customs, didn’t recognize the dance, but Catherine, Mercedes, and Dorothea knew it well. When the small collection of wind instruments in the band rang out, three members of the group were completely caught off guard as the other three spun them only to send them off, right into the arms of the next dance partner. 

One thing Dorothea had failed to account for in her plan however, was that the dance traditionally sent the non-leading dancer out, she had foolishly forgotten that which meant Edelgard was launched towards Mercedes, Flayn was now dancing with Catherine, and she was now dancing with the professor. 

This plan was in action for an entire 30 seconds and already was going to hell. 

“Hello, professor.” Dorothea said, grabbing Byleth as she had Edelgard and leading the two of them back through the same routine as before. 

“Dorothea, I told you all, call me Blyeth.” She corrected, barely managing to avoid collision with another duo of dancers. 

“Well, it’s funny you mention that. I’ve never noticed you correct Edie on that. Might there be a reason in particular, Byleth?” Byleth went slightly red, making the songstress laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it’s none of my business. Oh! When the horns sound again, spin me and let go, understood?” Byleth nodded, a bit confused. 

“But, I thought this dance was supposed to have the same people pass each time? That was how Catherine had explained it.” 

“Oh, what does Catherine know?” Dorothea said dismissively. One thing Catherine knew was the proper form for this dance, but to hell with it. They had not gotten this far for something so petty as formality to get in the way. 

Catherine found it absolutely ridiculous how much shorter Flayn was than her. She slouched down and still was almost two heads taller. It put her spine through absolute hell. But the way Flayn was absolutely beaming up at her made the crick in her back all worth it. 

“You are very graceful, Sir Catherine!” Flayn said up to her.

“Cmon, Flayn, it’s just Catherine. Don’t gotta be so formal about it.” 

“Ok!” Flayn said cheerfully, moving in time with Catherine as they moved between the other duos, Catherine putting a bit more zip into her movement and swinging Flayn up off her feet for half a step. Flayn landed, giggling until something in the distance seemed tp make her go quiet. “Please be careful, Catherine. Mercy spun me a bit too hard earlier and I almost tripped. I’m sure if my brother sees something like that again he’ll surely call it too dangerous to be amongst all these people and demand I leave.” As she spoke, Catherine caught the stone eyed glare of one Lord Seteth, and returned it back in kind. That seemed to effect him, and Catherine couldn’t quite read how. He almost looked ashamed. What the hell? 

“Well, don’t worry kid. If he tries to give you grief, I’ll have Byleth talk to him. I think that’ll make him see a little reason.”

“I wouldn’t want to make a scene…” Catherine realized she’d just messed up big time. She wasn’t quite sure what she expected to come from literally threatening the girl's brother, but the nervousness she had in her eyes talking about him made Catherine worried, and a worried Catherine tended to be a dumb Catherine. 

“Don’t worry hun, we’ll make sure you’re safe and get to have a fun night. All the rest of that, it doesn’t matter.” Catherine did what she did best and improvised, throwing a bit of extra muscle into the next step and spinning Flayn like a top in front of her. The girl was absolutely bubbly by the time the horn blew. “OK, now go have a good time and don’t get too in your head.” With that, Catherine sent her off with a gentle spin, and caught the woman careening towards her. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Catherine asked, grabbing Dorothea out of the spin. The two seemed to tussle over who would take the lead, but only for a moment. Catherine gave in much quicker then Dorothea had expected, and the two began dancing around, occasionally catching a glimpse of Byleth and Edelgard dancing together. 

“Improvising. Now shut up and dance.” Dorothea said. 

“Yes ma’am.” Catherine agreed, following the woman’s lead and just happy to be dancing with someone slightly closer to her own height. Her spine hurt like hell. 

“You’re quite the dancer when you’re not weighed down by armor and gauntlets, it would seem.” Edelgard commented as they spun around the other two dancing pairs. 

“I’ve been practicing a bit more. I thought it might be useful in combat, help with footwork and such.” Byleth lied through her teeth. About the reasoning at least. She had insisted on Catherine’s help with practicing dance, and thankfully her partner had been more than willing to help. Byleth was relatively certain it was just because she wanted an excuse to put a hand on her ass, but that was not important. 

“Well, it shows.” Edelgard said, smiling up at her Professor, catching a glimpse of the light in her eyes and the smile on her lips. It made her heart absolutely melt. 

“You really do look beautiful tonight.” Byleth and Edelgard both went a bit red as they moved around the other dancers. 

“The dress certainly is nice. I just wish it weren’t so garish. It feels too dramatic.” Edelgard said, trying to deflect the conversation. 

“I think sometimes a bit of decoration is appropriate.” 

“Oh goddess’s mercy those two are hopeless.” Dorothea said, smacking her head against Catherine's shoulder, quite exasperated. 

“Give them some time. They’ll figure it out on their own.” Catherine assured.

“Oh please, they’re the textbook example of ‘immovable force meets unstoppable object’.” Dorothea grumbled. 

“I think you have that…”

“Shut up and dance.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

When the horns lit off again, Edelgard realized she had seconds left to say what she’d been trying to piece together the entire dance. 

“Midnight. Meet me in the goddess tower.” With that, Byleth sent Edelgard spinning, right into Catherine. 

“Shit, don’t go knocking me over, Princess.” Catherine grumbled as Edelgard stumbled into her. The two began dancing, Edelgard taking the lead between them with a brief defiance from the taller woman. 

“Perhaps I wouldn’t if you didn’t have two left feet.” Edelgard taunted.

“Or perhaps if you weren’t so distracted ogling Byleth. ” Catherine offered, using the moment of shock that bought her to take the lead back. 

“I am not ‘oggling’ anyone.” Edelgard hissed. 

“Oh, perhaps ‘oggling’ is the wrong word. Would you prefer I say ‘scheduling tacit midnight rendezvous with’ instead?” Edelgard looked up at her. 

“How…”

“You’re not as good at the whole ‘whispering’ thing as you seem to think, Princess. But, I wish you luck. Hopefully it goes well and Dorothea won't have to rope me into any more of these little schemes.” 

“She what?” Edelgard asked. Catherine just smiled and laughed, stumbling a bit as Edelgard began leading them again. “She had no right to go…” 

“Oh, calm down, Edelgard.” The final horn blared, and the dancers began to disperse, moving back to their previous spots around the hall. Catherine began walking off as she straightened out her clothing, undoing the tie and leaving it draped over her neck like a sash. She hadn’t realized how warm the hall had gotten. “Dorothea just wanted to help you. That’s the type of friend you want having your back, so value it. And like I said, good luck.” Catherine waved goodbye as she moved over to the refreshments table, grabbing a glass of wine out of a clearly-too-young student’s hand and smacking him in the back of the head. “Get the fuck out of here, Sylvain.” 

Edelgard moved off toward one side of the building, finding herself at a small refreshments table along with Mercedes and Flayn. 

“Hehe, long time no see, Edelgard.” Mercedes said, smiling as she addressed her. 

“Mercedes, we were just dancing with...ohhhhhh!” Flayn said, getting the joke. 

“Hahaha, it’s been quite some time since we have actually spoken much. Goodness, that must have been the day of the battle of Eagle and Lion for us, Mercedes. How have the two of you been?” 

“I’ve been wonderful. Manuela keeps us busy enough with our studies that I have been spending an awful lot of time at the library lately. But, thankfully it’s a bit less creepy without that librarian hanging about and with Flayn to keep me company.” Mercedes looked over at the green haired young woman, who was now popping a few scattered seafood horderves onto a small plate before walking over and offering them both a few. Edelgard took one, having not realized through her nerves hou hungry she was. 

“It’s nice being able to be among you all as a fellow classmate for once after so long just watching you all study. I have found so much fun in studying healing magic with Mercy, and I have even been receiving some lessons in archery!” Flayn beamed, popping the three remaining treats on the plate into her mouth at once. Edelgard was unsure whether to be disgusted or impressed. Mercedes however pat the woman on her shoulder. 

“I’m glad to hear you seem to still be doing well adjusting to student life.” Edelgard said, smiling. 

‘It’s definitely been...interesting, but not very easy at times.” Flayn said, rubbing the back of her neck.

“How do you mean?” Edelgard asked.

“Well, I’m just used to not having to make any decisions about my life. So, well, student life has been kind of...hard to adjust to. Mercy has been really helpful through all of that.” The patting on her shoulder Mercedes had been doing turned into a soft rub, a sort of reassurance. Edelgard felt a bit awkward, as if she had pried a bit too deep, and tried to shift the conversation toward happier topics. 

“Well,um, I’m glad you were able to make it to the ball. I see you two are having a fun night.” Edelgard said, referencing the fact the two both seemed a bit tired from the dancing. 

“It’s wonderful. It has been so long since I last was able to dance.” Mercedes said as Flayn was, suddenly, absolutely beaming. 

“I don’t think i’ve been able to dance so joyously since before the war.” Flayn agreed. Before Edelgard could ask exactly what war she had meant, Mercedes heard the band begin again, and put her seltzer glass aside as she was pulled by Flayn back onto the dance floor. 

Those two certainly were...interesting. 

A bit of a ways away, as that same song began to wind up, Ashe felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw Catherine towering over her, offering a hand. 

“Spare a dance, young lady?” Catherine asked, earning an eyeroll from Ashe, but still she took the offered hand. They moved over to the dance floor, and followed the steps of the slow, methodical waltz that played. As they found a slow rhythm, Catherine smiled as she caught Ashe watching the fabric of her skirt twirl a bit with their steps. “You look very nice, Ashe.” 

“Thanks… I really appreciated your help, picking it out I mean.” Ashe said, looking up at Catherine, absolutely beaming. 

“Of course. I told you, if you ever want help buying clothes, never hesitate to ask me. I may not look it, but I had a bit of a feminine phase once, so the little trick with the dress cut and the sweater aren’t the only ones up my sleeves. 

“I’ll remember that.” Ashe said, giggling. 

“What does Leonie think of the outfit?” Catherine asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“Um, w.why would you ask about her in particular?” Ashe tried to play it casual, as if she were completely unaware of exactly what Catherine was implying. 

“Oh, so you’re still playing at that angle, are you?” Catherine asked. 

“I have no idea what you mean.” Ashe said, sincerely. 

“I’m sure you don’t. Just like I’m sure you’ll have no idea what I mean when I ask how you two have been enjoying your little bed-sharing arrangements the past few weeks.” Ashe went beat red. 

“It’s not what you think.” Ashe started, and Catherine rolled her eyes. 

“Believe me, kiddo, I know that. Leonie’s room is right next to Byleth’s, and those walls are thin. I just wanted to give you a little shit. It’s obligatory, at this point.” Ashe pressed the tip of her heel into Catherine’s foot, earning a muttered ‘ow’ from the knight. 

“Ooooh, ‘obligatory’? I’m amazed you know a word with that many syllables.” Ashe said, making Catherine chuckle. 

“Oh, please. Your classmates have come up with way more interesting ways to call me an idiot. You’re going to have to step up your game, kiddo.” Ashe giggled and shook her head, the music starting to slow, and dancers starting to disperse. The two pulled apart, and Catherine patted Ashe on her shoulder as they walked off of the dance floor. “I’m proud of you, Ashe. Go have a good rest of your night.” 

“Thanks, Catherine. You too.” 

“Maybe if Sylvain will quit trying to swipe wine, I might actually be able to.” 

“Good luck with that.” Ashe said, giggling a bit as Catherine stormed off after the red-head in question. 

“Bernadetta, you are looking absolutely lovely tonight.” Dorothea said, kissing the girl on her cheek as she finally reached the two over near one corner of the room. She gave a similar peck to Petra, and sighed as she took an offered glass of water. “I swear, the things I do for others.” 

“Dear, I think you are having more fun then Byleth and Edelgard, with your little schemes.” Petra teased, poking the girl in the side, nearly making her cough up her water with how ticklish she was. Petra pulled her into a hug as she tried to glare at the princess, but after a few seconds of pouting with Petra’s arms around her midsection and her chin rested on Dorothea’s shoulder, she couldn’t help but smile. 

“I suppose… But it wasn’t as much for me as it was for Manuela.” Dorothea said, looking off to see said professor chatting with Hanneman and Byleth. 

“How is she? I know you were worried about her.” Bernadetta looked over, following her eyes to the woman in question. 

“She’s better, now. She’s gotten back to her old self. But, well, Jeralt’s passing hit her hard. I think having something else to focus on helped her a lot, but I still notice her kind of get quiet sometimes…” Dorothea said, reaching out and taking Bernadetta’s hand in her own. Whenever her and Petra were affectionate, Bernadetta tended to back away, as if she was afraid to intrude on them. So, it had become common for Dorothea to close that gap, and show her she was wanted there with them.

A clock showed the time as five minutes to midnight when Edelgard began walking toward the Goddess Tower. She had thought her nerves were on edge before, but now it felt like electricity in her veins, putting every single hair on end as she moved toward the exit, then through it. She crossed the courtyard, and reached the base of the tower. She realized she had not specified where in the tower to meet, but she heard soft footsteps on the level above, and climbed the aged stone stairs up. There, at the top of the staircase, she saw her Professor leaned over, looking out a large open window with her elbows resting on the windowsill. The distant sounds of music drifted in from the dance hall, and the moon shone through the top of the tower. Edelgard could swear that in the dark those cobalt eyes almost seemed to glow,piercing right through her, and she realized there was no going back. 

“Professor.” Edelgard greeted stiffly, walking a bit closer.

“You don’t need to be so formal, Edelgard.” Her Professor said softly. “You knew me as Byleth before you knew me as your professor.” 

“You...never told me to call you that like you did the other students. I had assumed there was a reason.” Edelgard said, rubbing the side of her arm nervously. 

“Dorothea was talking about something similar...why I never corrected you.” 

“Why is that, Professor?” Byleth chuckled, looking over to her. 

“I suppose it’s because the way you say it is different from the others.” 

“How so?” Edelgard felt her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest as they locked eyes. 

“Because the others say professor, I guess. It’s a title, a mark of responsibility. The way you say Professor...it feels like when Catherine calls me Letty. Or I call her Cat. A title of familiarity.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” Edelgard admitted. She wasn’t quite sure where that difference had developed, but as she poured through her own mind, she noticed at some point Byleth seemed to have changed from being a professor to being her Professor. 

“At least you’re smart enough to admit it.” Byleth said with a chuckle. Edelgard walked beside her, resting her hands on the cold stone railing. “I on the other hand, have now spent several minutes babbling on about how you call me professor, and I’m not even sure what I intended to say. I suppose it would be better if I actually shut up and let you say whatever it is you asked me here to talk ab-hmph” Before byleth could actually end her rambling, Edelgard allowed herself one moment of stupidity, one rash action she knew she couldn’t justify. She turned, grabbing her Professor by the lapels of her jacket and pinning her to the wall behind them, and in an instant she slammed her lips against Byleth’s. 

For a split second, nothing happened. Edelgard was about to pull away, to apologize and run away in horror at what she had done, when she felt fingers in her hair pulling her close. They stayed there, lips pressed together desperately, until long after the bell had tolled midnight. The both of them wished that moment would have lasted forever, that they didn’t have to talk, that they could say whatever they needed to without words they both found so difficult. But eventually they had to part, and they did so, panting desperately for air, neither quite having the courage to pull the other back in. After they’d caught their breath, Edelgard stepped back and let go of Byleth’s jacket, smoothing out the front of her own uniform. 

“I...I’m sorry, Professor. That was rude of me.” Edelgard said. Byleth just stood there, shocked, trying to sift through her emotions as they boiled inside of her. 

“No...you’re fine...it’s just…” Byleth couldn’t quite put the words together, but Edelgard could. 

“Byleth...do you have feelings for me?” 

There it was, out in the open, where it couldn’t be taken back. Like that, the twine was cut and the dagger fell. Byleth sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she leaned back, sitting on the windowsill.

“You’re not going to like my answer, Edelgard.” She said, looking up into those same lilac eyes she’d seen a thousand times and yet could never get enough of. 

“Say it.” Edelgard pleaded. She needed to know, one way or another. 

“I don’t know.” Byleth said, looking down and shaking her head.

“You don't….” Edelgard watched as Byleth seemed to crumble before her. Tears streamed down her cheeks but… she was smiling, even laughing as she wiped away a tear. “Professor, Byleth, what is going on?” Edelgard walked forward and rested her hand on Byleth’s shoulder. 

“I have no goddess damned idea, Edelgard.” Byleth swallowed down the frog in her throat, trying to find the words. Feelings are just so new and confusing and scary to me in a way nothing ever has been before. It was manageable enough when this all first started. You, Catherine, my dad, you all were there, you kept me balanced while I got my feet underneath me. When I talked to you on the walk to Remire, I thought I was steady enough to actually try to piece together everything, to figure out what I felt. But then… I still can’t quite shake everything that I felt with my father’s death. It’s not gone, but it doesn’t hurt the same way it did. Through all of that it’s so hard to tell what anything I feel is or means anymore.” Byleth explained, trying to make the absolute chaos and nonsense that was her life these days make any kind of sense. 

Edelgard couldn’t help but fixate on that one line. She had ‘kept her balanced’ when this had all started, and then she disappeared without a word. 

“Byleth, I’m so sorry. When Monica took over my time I-” 

“No. Don’t.” Byleth shook her head, finally looking back up and into her eyes. “I’m glad that you didn’t try to fight Monica or make her leave. Nothing good could have come from that. I’m just glad you’re safe.” Byleth rested her hand on Edelgard’s. She felt disgust in the back of her throat, her teacher certainly was right that nothing came of her doing that that was good. Even now, her tentative ‘freedom’ from Those Who Slither was poisoned by their actions. “I don’t want you to take this as a no.” 

That made Edelgard’s head perk up a bit as she looked at the woman, confused. She’d almost forgotten the entire point of this conversation, why they were in this cool, damp tower in the first place. 

“I don’t understand, Byleth.” Edelgard said quietly. 

“I’m sorry, I wish I had a better answer to give you.Just please don’t think that this is me saying that I don’t care, because I do, and I...I think the answer is yes. But I can’t say for certain with everything else going through my head right now and I don’t want to risk giving you an answer now that may change in a couple of days. I know that I’m happy when I see you. I know that I want to stand by your side, to help you with the fight you seem so driven by, to help you build the better world you talk about and to crush the people who hurt you. As long as you will have me, I’ll stand beside you. Whether that be as a comrade, teacher, advisor, soldier or… I may not know exactly what role I wish to fill in your life yet, but I know I don’t want to lose you as part of mine. I know that when I think of you I feel this strange flutter in my chest noone before Catherine ever made me feel. But even then… I don’t know if what me and Catherine have is ‘feelings’, or whatever you may call it, or not. I’m trying to learn to really rely on others, to figure out how I feel, but I’m just petrified that we’ll get closer and then you’ll disappear from my life. I know it's foolish and I should listen to myself when I teach and learn to be ok with relying on the people around me. I’m trying to learn that, to hold that to heart, but I just can’t shake that fear when the most perfect example of it becoming reality is still so fresh in my heart. I just need time to try and learn that even if bad things happen it’s not some curse, that I can actually rely on those I care for. I just… oh damnit all.”

Byleth leaned over, still sat on the edge of the window, and cupped Edelgard’s cheek in her hand, leaning close and pressing their lips slowly together. Byleth tasted salt, but underneath it was the unmistakable taste of bergamot and raspberry. She found the taste of raspberries much more palatable this way. Meanwhile Edelgard could feel her heart right back at it trying to crack her sternum as she tasted the strangest mix of lavender and vinegar. The first kiss had been hungry, desperate, filled with tension and anxiety about what lay on the other side for the two of them. This was slow, soft, still uncertain but comfortable. It was a promise Byleth knew she’d fail to put into words, so she tried to put it another way. They pulled apart from it, and that promise was clear. 

“I know that I liked that. I hope you can forgive me for not being able to say much more.” Edelgard nodded, smiling tiredly. 

“I suppose I can.” She knew someday, if she were lucky, she would need to ask that same forgiveness. Byleth turned, looking over to the moon as the soft tune of distant music filled the silence between them. 

“Hey Ashe!” Leonie called, walking up to the tired young woman and handing her a glass of water. “Drink this, you’ve been dancing like a freaking mad woman all night, and I’m a little worried you’re going to drop from dehydration.” Leonie said, Ashe took the glass, downing it in almost a second. 

“Thank you, Leonie.” Ashe said, giggling a bit into the back of her sweater-clad arm. “I needed that.” 

“Yeah, I could tell, hahaha.” Leonie said, coughing a bit and trying to ignore the flutter in her heart that giggle had just caused. “I’ve never seen you this, well, social before. I swear you’ve danced with like, everyone at least once.” Everyone except for her, but well, she would be an ass to say it like that. 

“Oh, hehehe, yeah. I don’t really dance all that often, but… well it’s nice, to get to dance around and have fun and stuff as, um, me.” Ashe said, smiling again and clasping her hands together in front of her, twiddling her thumbs a little bit as she took a deep breath. 

“I’m...I’m a bit hot, would you want to come outside with me for a moment?” Leonie asked. Ashe looked a bit dumbstruck, and Leonie started to wonder if she’d been too forward, tugging at the hem of her orange blouse with her thumb. Ashe tried to find a way to say yes and not sound like an idiot. 

“Yeah, sure!” Nailed it. Ashe felt Leonie’s fingers interlace with hers, and suddenly she was being pulled out of the dining hall. 

They ended up standing on the platform overlooking the fishing pond, the cool air billowing Ashe’s dress and making Leonie’s slacks flutter a bit. 

“It’s a beautiful night.” Leonie said, the two having grown rather quiet as they had taken the long, circuitous walk from the dance hall to the stairs. Ashe still hadn’t let go of Leonie’s fingers, and she certainly was not about to complain. The only noise around them was the whoosh of the water in the fishing pond, and the soft music that still carried over from the dance hall, leaving the entire monastery bathed in a quiet, soft lullaby. 

“It really is.” Ashe said, her eyes glued to Leonie as she stared up at the massive moon overhead.  
“You know it helps if you actually look up at the sky.” Leonie teased, looking over to catch Ashe’s eye, as the both of them blushed. The little smile on Ashe’s lips made Leonie beam like an idiot, and for just a little while she didn’t have to worry, she wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t even really nervous. She was just happy to be there. 

“Sorry… You’re pretty, what can I say?” Ashe said, her energy from all the dancing giving her a bit of a boost in confidence. 

“Nothing. It’s not a complaint.” Leonie said, running her thumb along one of Ashe’s knuckles. “But if you’re going to stare, you can’t exactly judge me if I do the same.” Leonie teased, looking Ashe in the eye and pausing for just a moment, enjoying the view. “You’re lovely, Ashe.” Ashe turned her gaze away, smiling as she tried to hide how big of a smile such a simple compliment had given her. 

“Thank you, Leonie.” Ashe said quietly. She heard a shift in fabric, and when she turned back, Leonie was a step closer, and Ashe’s breath hitched a bit at how close they now were. 

“You shouldn’t thank me for saying the truth.” Leonie said, this time little more than a whisper.

Surprisingly, it was Ashe that closed that distance, leaning forward and pressing her lips against Leonie’s softly, nervously. She had to lift up a bit onto her tip-toes to make it work, but when it did she didn’t want to pull away. She felt Leonie’s arms wrap around her waist, pulling her into her, and Ashe had nowhere else to put her own arms but on Leonie’s shoulders, hooked awkwardly behind her neck as the two stayed there, letting the entire world pass them by as they stayed there, lips pressed together. 

After some time, the two pulled apart, looking each other in the eye as neither quite seemed capable of forming words. Unsurprisingly, Leonie was the one to finally break the silence. 

“Would you like to dance?” Leonie asked. Ashe nodded, and neither let go of the other, instead opting to simple begin a slow, turning step in time with the distant music that filled the air around them. They stayed intertwined, Ashe’s head resting on Leonie’s shoulder as they spun around, in no rush to go anywhere except in more and more circles. It was quiet, and a bit strange, but to them it made all the sense in the world. 

“Hey, Princess, you ok?” Catherine asked, seeing the Eagle walk in well after one in the morning, clearly drained. 

“I think I will be.” Edelgard said, wiping at her cheek one last time. 

“Rough talk with Letty?” Edelgard nodded. 

“It’s...complicated.” Edelgard said with a shrug. There wasn’t much more to say than that. 

“I told you, you nobles let everything be so damned complicated.” Catherine said, shaking her head. “But then again, I guess that’s no excuse for Byleth.” Edelgard shrugged again, but looked at her for a moment, confused. 

“You speak so callously of the nobility, but house Charon is a noble house, is it not?” Catherine chuckled, pulling the flask from her vest and taking a swig off of it. 

“Yeah, well if you ask most nobles, they’ll say Charon barely deserves to count as a noble house. Ask any Charon, and they’ll tell you something similar about me.” Catherine said bitterly, taking another long swig from the flask and tucking it back in her vest. But, this aint about me, Princess. What’s on your mind?” 

“I suppose there's just not enough luck in the world for everything to be simple. I just wish some things could be.” Edelgard leaned back against the wall Catherine had been leaned against for the better part of half an hour. 

“Well, sometimes you don’t need luck. Sometimes you just need to not let go of the things that matter to you, and let the rest of the world be damned. ” 

“Is that why you’re such a stubborn ass all the time?” Edelgard asked, looking over at Catherine, Lilac eyes meeting a very different type of blue. 

“No. That’s just my winning personality.” Catherine said, shooting her a joking wink. 

“I’m sure it is.” Edelgard replied, rolling her eyes. 

“But really, Princess, I know Letty can be a bit...strange, but she’s not one to beat around the bush. If things are complicated, it’s because she wants to do them right. If she was going to just say to hell with it, she’d say ‘no and go fuck yourself’, pardon my Dagdan. Give her time.” Catherine said with a shrug. 

“Is that how things happened with you two?” 

“Oh fuck no. I let her beat the shit out of me then we made out on a training arena floor. The rest all just kind of fell into place. But then again, my experience probably isn’t one you want to be learning from.” Catherine said, taking a sip from a glass of water. 

“And yet here you are, giving advice by the bucket full.” Edelgard gestured to the hall around them. 

“Call it a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ sort of thing.” Catherine said, setting her glass down as the band announced they would be playing the final song of the night. “Got the time for one more dance, Lady Hresvelg?” Catherine asked, bowing dramatically as she offered her hand. Edelgard slapped her on the back of the head, but took the hand nonetheless. 

“I suppose I could spare one more dance. But for the love of the goddess, never call me “Lady Hresvelg” again.” She said, walking toward the dance flood. 

“Princess it is.” Catherine said, chuckling as she rubbing the sore spot on the back of her head. 

“You’re such an ass.” Edelgard taunted. 

“You know, you call me that a lot. There something you need to talk to me about, Princess?”

“Oh shut up and dance.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Kronya, I trust you are prepared for the battle ahead.” Solon muttered, scratching away at a clipboard as he made his final observations of the various beasts caged in the basement of a long abandoned temple. He was beyond furious to be sacrificing precious weeks of experimentation, he’d barely had any time to test these sniveling welp’s pain tolerance levels, but he knew better than to disobey Thales. 

“Of course. I’m more than ready to take that bitch down a peg.” Kronya said, smiling a grin too full of teeth too sharp to properly match the still-in-place human skin she wore. “I have several hundred useless laps worth of revenge to take out.” Solon sighed mirthlessly. 

“Well, just ensure the plan goes accordingly. I'll be observing nearby to see what this woman is like in regards to her skill. If Flame Emperor was telling the truth about her prowess in combat, then we may be able to do something of use with her remains. I’ve been curious about reanimation as of late. If not, then we’ll know Flame Emperor has been compromised, and we will dispose of it and Flame Emperor properly.” Kronya clapped giddily. 

“Oh pleeeeease let me be the one to dispose of her Solon!” 

“You will do as you are told, nothing more, nothing less. Now prepare yourself. I’ll be informing one of our agents to go report to that troublesome snake immediately. You’re sure this region is the one assigned to that woman?” 

“Positive. That’s what the knight I ‘spoke to’ said at least. Although it was hard to hear him through all the blood…” Kronya tried to remember exactly what he had said, but got distracted giggling at the way he had screamed when she slit his stomach open. Good times. 

“Well, whatever the specifics, from what you’ve reported this woman’s brash nature should ensure that as long as our little bird passes along that you were seen here, she and those sniveling brats should be running here in just a moment. If not, then when you are finished with whatever nitwits are assigned this zone, she’ll likely come as backup. Kill anyone you must, just ensure she dies.” 

“Ooooh, wonderful! I can’t wait.” 

“Hold on, let me make something clear. Flame Emperor is to be left alive, if just barely.” 

“Oh, that’s no fun at all.” Kronya said, pouting.

“That thing is mine to dispose of if need be. Thales has been so protective of it since its crest formed, if it truly has forgotten its place in this plan then I want to make sure I can make some use of it by testing the limits of the crest of flames before its brittle body finally gives out. You take that opportunity from me, and I'll use you for those experiments instead, understood?” Solon threatened, earning a weak nod from the girl. “Good. Now prepare yourself. The experiment is about to begin.” 

“Princess, wait!” Catherine called, finally catching up to Edelgard and Hubert in a small clearing after having chased them for what felt like miles. “We shouldn’t rush into this fight. If Monika is there, it could be a trap!” 

“Exactly! It has to be a trap for Byleth. We need to get there and help her!” Edelgard yelled back, looking for any sign of where the class had gone.

“Yeah, and if we run into that girl and whatever is making those noises first, we won’t be able to do jack shit!” Catherine grabbed the girl by the collar of her uniform, earning a glare from Hubert. Catherine shot him a look that screamed ‘try me’, and turned back to Edelgard. “Now take a fucking breath, and let me catch mine while we try to find your classmates, ok!?” Edelgard nodded, glaring at her. “Thank the fucking goddess.” Catherine sighed, letting the girl back onto the ground. 

Edelgard was furious. She had no idea why her Professor had seemingly failed to collect her from the dorms after their class had been called. Had it not been for Catherine knocking, or more precisely almost knocking down, her door, she’d have missed the entire ordeal. She could remember the terror on the woman’s face as she asked if Edelgard had seen Byleth, mentioning that the other students were all missing from their rooms, and the school was in chaos. 

They had just barely managed to get their weapons and armor together and move out when they ran into a knight Catherine quite literally grabbed and demanded to be filled in on the situation. Apparently monsters had been spotted in the Eagle’s assigned section of the Monastery perimeter, and the class had already been discharged to deal with it. When they heard that, they broke out into a sprint that didn’t stop until the clearing they now stood in. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Those who slither had told them nothing of an intent to attack the school. But now, Kronya appeared to be at the ready, leading a small army of crest beasts into their school’s territory. 

Catherine herself was just shy of screaming and trying to punch her way through a damn tree. She had expected to wake up that morning next to Byleth and to be able to enjoy a nice, quiet sunday. Instead she woke up alone to the sounds of screaming and running soldiers. This day was a disaster and a half, and it was barely 8 am. The roar of an unnaturally large beast off in the distance drew all three of their attentions. Before Catherine could say a word to try and stop her, Edelgard was off like a bolt. 

“Damnit” Hubert and Catherine said at the same time as they both followed her. Catherine never thought she’d be the one saying someone needed to put more thought into a fight, but now here she was being stuck as the voice of reason. How much more screwed could they be?!

They broke through the treeline again, and saw their class combatting three different beasts, all of which looked very similar to the one they had battled in Miklan’s tower. Or at least, Catherine thought they did. Why was the last portion of that mission so fuzzy to her? Come to think of it, why couldn’t she remember the walk home?

“Professor!” Edelgard shouted, pointing at the gauntlet-clad instructor as she was standing atop a beast’s head, smashing down into its skull with her fist over and over and over until the thing finally collapsed beneath her. Byleth clearly heard the shout, and when she looked up, the look of anger and fear in her eyes caught all three of the new arrivals by surprise. Edelgard drew her axe, and Catherine pulled Thunderbrand from it’s sheath as they moved to join the chaotic battle. 

Hubert sprinted past the first beast, where Catherine and Edelgard joined Ashe and Leonie, and instead moved towards the next closest opponent, finding Caspar, Linhardt, and Ferdinand barely dodging out of a boulder thrown by the scaley reptilian behemoth. Hubert knew he wouldn’t move from the boulder’s path in time, and instead summoned a Thoron blast, the mighty beam of energy tearing through the stone and sending it scattering around him as the beam went on to slam into the beasts chest, throwing it backwards. 

“H..Hubert!” Ferdinand stuttered out quickly, backing away from the glaring young marquis. “I’m so glad you made it here!” Ferdinand tried to lie, finding his collar grabbed as he was pulled close. He stared at Hubert’s utterly rage filled eyes for a moment, before suddenly noticing them move down as Hubert began inspecting him. 

“Are you hurt?I swear to every damned god you could pray to that if you left us behind and got yourself hurt in the process I will skin you alive myself, Ferdinand!” Hubert grumbled. 

“Hubert, my light, I’m ok! I’m alive and well, nothing but a few scrapes and bruises.” Ferdinand assured. Hubert nodded, calming himself a bit as he took a step back. After he seemed to have calmed himself, Ferdinand felt his collar yet again being grabbed. 

“What in the hell did you think you were doing, leaving us behind!? Were you all so damned daft that you forgot about almost an eighth of the class?” Hubert asked, shaking him as Caspar and Linhardt moved over to help the others deal with the final Demonic beast. 

“Hubert!” Ferdinand grabbed his partner’s hands at the wrist, wrenching himself free and holding the limbs tight. He felt the hands in his grasp shaking in worry. “We did not forget you.” 

“Then what in the hell did you think you were doing, leaving us at the monastery?”

“Keeping you safe!” Ferdinand shouted back. “Do you really think me so foolish as to forget you? Never. Byleth wanted Catherine and Edelgard nowhere near this fight, and I knew that if we woke you you’d insist on taking Edelgard. I was also more than happy to have an excuse to keep you as far from Monica as possible.” Ferdinand’s voice cracked a bit as he spoke. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I realized how much time you spent around that murderous woman when she was amongst us? The danger I realized you had been in for months? I didn’t want to risk you surviving all of that just to die the first time you saw her again.” He released Hubert’s wrists, drawing a deep breath as he grabbed his saber from the ground, putting it back in the sheath at his waist. Hubert didn’t know what to say.

“I… I’m sorry, Ferdinand.” Ferdinand snapped to face him as if the words had sent a bolt of lightning through his body, shock apparent on his face. 

“I, well, I’ll admit I hadn’t been expecting that response.” Ferdinand said with a slightly awkward chuckle. 

“What had you been expecting?” 

“I was expecting more ‘everlasting curses’ or you turning me into a newt.” 

“You really do not listen when I speek of my magic studies, do you?” Hubert asked, shaking his head. 

“I try! I swear on my name as a noble, I do. But, well, when you start talking about sigil formations and energy convergence, I kind of get lost.” Ferdinand said, blushing. Hubert grumbled a bit, trying to parse exactly how he was feeling at that moment, but found his mind occupied by a more pressing question. 

“Why...why did Byleth not want Lady Edelgard or Catherine near the fight?” Hubert worried when they’d first awoken that something had made the professor doubt his and Edelgard’s loyalty, but Catherine had made him doubt that hypothesis. 

“Why do you think?” Ferdinand asked, as if it were obvious. The red headed noble sighed and drummed his fingers on the pommel of his saber. “Monica already took Byleth’s father. I doubt she’d be too keen to give her an opportunity at her partner and, well, whatever exactly is the term for what Edelgard is to her.” Ferdinand said with a shrug. 

“Her student.” Hubert pointed out. 

“My light, you know that was not what I was talking about. I may not be the most educated noble in the world but I am smart enough to know when you’re playing coy.”

“So!” A strange yet familiar voice called from the top of the small hill above them. Ferdinand and Hubert turned to see Monica above them, her neck snapping awkwardly to the side and then to the other, before whipping back and finally returning to its original position. As it returned, they noticed her hair had gone from deep, vibrant red to a softer orange, and her skin had gone almost ashen grey, like it was rotting atop her. Her school uniform had shifted as well, now a tight suit of what appeared to be leather armor. “You really are as powerful as the Flame Emperor made you out to be. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the fact that that just saved his life.” Monica hollered, as if she were disappointed. “Such a shame, I was looking forward to watching you all fall one by one as i burry my dagger in your backs!” Kronya chuckled as she saw Byleth’s jaw clench. “Too soon? Oh, I guess if I let my daddy die I wouldn’t be too happy about it either.” 

Monica stood and began sauntering up the hill almost leisurely. Before Edelgard or Catherine could even reach her, Byleth was charging up the hill, the large bone blade on her back glowing from its sheath, and the student’s calls to wait for them fell on deaf ears. Kronya walked to the large clearing she’d set aside for her match against that damned woman, only to see Solon strangely enough standing in the middle of it, waiting for her. 

“Decided to join the fun, Solon?” Kronya cooed as she came close. There were large, intricate patterns drawn on the floor in some strange paint. 

“Not entirely. I contacted Thales and told him about the weapon on that woman’s back, and there’s been a change of orders.” Solon muttered, almost casually. 

“Oh! Do we get to kill Flame Emperor too?” Kronya asked, hopefully. 

“No. It appears that thing may have in fact been on to something, showing an interest in that woman. That weapon is a relic that, by all rights, should be useless to her. Yet it glows on her, ready to strike. We will be doing our best to trap her, stow her away in the darkest pits we can, until such time as I can properly experiment on her and find the key to her ability to wield that blade.” 

“Awwwwe, so I don’t get to kill her?” Kronya whined, stomping the ground. 

“No, you damned fool. Now get over here, I require your assistance with the spell.” Solon muttered, pointing to the spot beside him. Kronya rolled her eyes and stood where she was told. 

“Ok, fine, what do you want me to do?” 

“Nothing. Just don’t move.” Solon ordered, turning as he heard Byleth wheeling around the corner of the treeline, charging them. Suddenly, Kronya screamed as she felt Solon’s long, sharp, talon-like fingers rip through her back and ripping out one of her organs. The last thing Kronya saw was a blinding flash of purple light. 

The sensation of floating and looking up into an utterly black night’s sky was what greeted Byleth when she found her senses. Everything around her felt as if perfectly matched so the water or whatever it was she floated in could not be told from the air. The abyss she seemed to be submerged in was almost suffocating in its emptiness.

She had no idea how long she’d been there, how long she had floated in this darkness. All she could remember was running away from Catherine and Edelgard, charging at Monica and hoping she could end the fight before they got anywhere near her.

She knew that was stupid. Dad would have had her ass for letting her emotions get the better of her like that, letting herself be goaded into charging into a fight alone without taking in her surroundings. She remembered seeing that strange librarian, Tomas, ripping out some black and shriveled thing she’d guess was Monica’s heart. That seemed appropriate, at least. Then a blinding flash of purple light and she was here. 

Then, out of that emptiness, out of that inky blackness, she felt as if a weight were slowly resting on her entire body, dragging her down into the depths of the darkness, depths that never seemed to end. She felt herself sinking deeper and deeper, or perhaps she was being pulled higher and higher, she knew not. All she knew was that when she finally stopped, she was laying on a hard stone floor. 

“Well well, I think we’re early this time around, I suppose it was really only a matter of time, but still, it’s rather fitting.” Byleth knew that voice, tearing herself up off the floor, a massive grin finding its way to her face as she realized why the stone felt so familiar. She stood, looking and having her expression almost instantly flounder as she saw Sothis, at least, the majority of her, floating before her. 

Sothis looked like a teacup that had been thrown against a wall and pieced together, with pieces still missing here and there. Entire parts of her body were gone, yet the limbs continued on after the absence. Her left elbow was nowhere to be found, and yet her left wrist and hand sat, propping up her chin as she floated lazily. Her right eye was also gone, leaving an empty, gaping viewport through her head. One foot was gone, as were several fingers on her right hand. The gaps in Sothis’s form weren’t bleeding wounds or scabs or scars. No, the borders between absent and present appendage all were simply dark, like the void around them, speckled with flecks of light like stars in the night sky. 

“You really never change, you stubborn fool. I still don’t know whether to be happy or even more angry. This is, quite literally, the 14th time we’ve done this, yet still you end up trapped?!” Sothis grumbled, shaking her head. 

“Sothis, you’re...you’re…” Byleth didn’t know what to say, for so long she had wanted to speak to her, and yet now she was speechless. She didn’t think, running to the small god and tackling her floating form in a hug.

“Ah! What are you doing, you oaf!?” Sothis lamented as Byleth hugged her close. A moment later she sighed and returned the gesture, wrapping the majority of two arms around the brawler’s chest. 

“I missed you, Sothis.” Byleth whispered. 

“I missed you too, you fool. I never thought it was possible, but it’s been rather infuriating not being able to lambast you while you stumble around like a jackass.” Sothis said quietly, for the first time in perhaps decades, shedding tears as she held close to her host, her friend. “I will admit, you’d been...better, this time around. I’m almost proud.” Byleth laughed, a quick, short thing that hung on her lips as she fought the tears of joy that strained at her eyes. She came back. Someone she cared about had actually come back. 

“I learned from the best.” Byleth said. “You’d like her. Short, with green hair and a whiny voice.” Byleth taunted, not letting go of the deity. 

“She sounds quite nice.” Sothis said, feeling a bit guilty as she let herself enjoy the quiet, happy moment for the little time she knew it would last. “How have things been going with the knight and the empress?” Sothis asked, finally pulling away. “You seem tired. Would you like to rest a moment?” Byleth looked, chuckling as Sothis gestured to the throne. She moved over and took a seat, Sothis floating over, reclining back and looking over to the brawler as she started to talk. 

“Things have been...interesting. Catherine and I had a bit of a fight a few months back.” Byleth said, toying with her gauntlets as she chuckled a bit awkwardly.

“I’m absolutely shocked.” Sothis mused sarcastically. “Did this one end like the last ‘fight’?” 

“Oh I didn’t mean it like that. We just argued. Catherine went a bit over the top, but there was a lot more too it we didn’t realize until afterward. We’ve been trying to figure everything out, but it kind of stalled out after dad died. She’s doing good though. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately. I even got to dance with her a bit last night.” 

“Oh my, you are a bit ahead if the dance was last night. How did your little chat with Edelgard in the tower go?” 

“How did you…”

“Don’t dodge the question!” Sothis chided, a taunting smirk on her face. “You are nothing if not predictable, my dear, and that has almost never changed.” 

“Oh, well, I guess I’m not too different from the me you knew then.” 

“You’re certainly very different, but it seems some things never change.” Sothis said, smiling. 

“Well, things went...well?”

“What did you do?” Sothis asked, accusations laced in the tone.

“Nothing! I just, well, Edelgard kissed me and asked if I had feelings for her and I rambled like a damned fool.” Sothis looked a bit shocked.

“Perhaps some things do change…” the goddess mused. “Wait a minute, what were you rambling about?” Byleth explained the situation, what she had said to Edelgard, what had happened that morning, why she had let Catherine and Edelgard sleep, and how she had ended up there. Sothis only groaned at the end. “I was going to tell you that your point, if not your delivery, in the goddess tower was almost intelligent, and then all that good will you squander with your damned stupidity! I, well, I’m sorry for your loss, my dear. If there is any consolation, he has passed every other time before. There are some things fate seems to just demand.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. In all honesty I’m trying to believe the exact opposite. But, I guess it’s getting easier to not blame myself for it all.” Sothis smiled, looking at the woman, almost impressed. Maybe there was hope for her yet. She had grown so jaded toward their last few runs. “...Where have you been, Sothis?” Byleth asked, growing quiet. 

“I’ve been here. Waiting. I’m glad you got here when you did, however. It seems that I’m running, for once, on limited time.” Sothis said, her form seeming to flicker in and out of existence. “You really did a number on this timeline, didn’t you?” 

“What do you mean, you’re ‘running on limited time’?” Byleth asked, fear evident in her voice as she shot up from her seat, Sothis’s flickering sending her into a nervous pulse so fast that felt like a small heart attack. “You’re the goddess of time!”

“Yes, and I’m also a stone in your chest that it would seem you managed to shatter rather tactlessly.” Sothis pointed out, ignoring the confusion in Byleth’s eyes and floating to the ground. She was standing stable, seemingly without notice of her missing foot. “However i’m glad to see it didn’t take you nearly as long to learn how to actually feel this time around as the ones before.” 

“You, you remember the times before?” Byleth asked, receiving a nod of affirmation. 

“I do. I remember the portion of them up until right about this point, at least. I have seen the past, seen the times we returned to the start and tried anew… Some lessons it seems can never be learned no matter how many times they are taught. Even without your still strange amnesia, it’s quite curious that you’ve fallen prey to this trick so many times..” Sothis smiled at her. “I had quite a bit of fun watching you flounder around that Edelgard girl when I was able to, I must say.” Byleth groaned. “Oh do not grumble at me! Had you listened to me, and not gotten my stone shattered, I might have been able to advise you a bit more. But no, you had to rush in, and look where that’s gotten you!” Byleth looked down, the floor beneath her seeming to be the only thing beside more inky blackness. Where had the throne gone? 

“So, what happens from here?” Byleth asked. 

“Well, I don’t remember after this. From here, my memories become ours, and sadly it seems that means that those memories are as absent as yours.” Byleth rolled her eyes. 

“I mean how do we get out of here. ” Byleth clarified. Sothis nodded. 

“Well, that is simple enough. I will turn my power, what little is left of it, over to you, and you shall use that sword on your back to carve your way out of this abyss.” Sothis said, as if it were the simplest, most obvious answer possible. 

“You, you want me to cut my way out of an empty nothingness with a sword I've never used before? I can barely run a blade as is!” 

“Will you quit screaming at me! I am tired enough.” Sothis declared, and Byleth found herself feeling guilty at the fact that, from the sounds of it, that was her fault. “I...I apologize. I let my temper grow short. I realize for you, being the first time through, you must be rather scared. But if it’s any consolation, this will be the only time you need to do this.” Byleth looked at her, confused. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, to put it bluntly, I’m dying, Byleth.” Sothis said, hands off to her sides in defeart. “Your previous antics have repeated so often because you had either me, or my power, to turn back time and try again fresh. But now, well, I have only a bit more energy than we will need to leave here left in the shards of my stone, and now that you have mentioned the sword not exactly being very useful to you, it appears even that will need to be put toward a proper escape.” Sothis said, sighing defeatedly. “This, to put it bluntly, is it. You will escape here, and I shall be no more. Some part of me will likely be left behind in you, in the shards of my stone in your chest still, but nothing like what it was before. If you have any of my powers at all, then it will likely be nowhere near enough to actually turn far enough to bring me back. From here, my dear, you have one chance to get this right, to build a life you can live with and try to make peace with. That’s all I have to give you.” Sothis said. 

Byleth felt her legs fall out from under her, emotions tearing through her like a storm. Sothis would die, Sothis was dying, Sothis had been dying for months now and she’d been none the wiser, and worst of all It was her fault. 

“I...I don’t want you to die.” Byleth said weakly, like a child who didn’t grasp the concept of death asking why the family dog wasn’t coming when she called its name. “I just… I just got you back.” Sothis sighed, walking over and resting a hand on her shoulder. Byleth could feel the fingers on her, yet she knew that hand had only one. 

“If it’s any consolation, which knowing you it won’t be” Sothis began, drawing the sword of the creator from Byleth’s sheath, looking at it in disgust. “I shall not be leaving you with nothing but a blade you have no use for to remember me by.” Byleth looked up, confused, as the blade began to glow in Sothis’s hands. Not as it had with her, where the veins and nicks in the blade seemed to light, but bright red across the entire blade, as if she had just pulled it from a smelting forge. “Give me your hands.” Sothis ordered. Byleth did as she was told, for once. Sothis grasped at the sides of the blade, wrenching her arms open as the bone began to pull apart like taffy, tearing into two pieces that glowed white with heat. 

Sothis slapped the remnants of the sword down onto Byleth’s gauntlets, the heat of the bone and metal melting, making Byleth scream in pain as she felt them burn through her skin. 

“Oh! I forgot to warn you, this will hurt. Oh well, I guess I can forgive you for the ‘breaking my stone’ incident now.” Sothis said with a shrug as Byleth screamed in front of her. She waved a hand over the screaming form of the brawler, and watched the molten bone and steel shift. 

After some manner of time passed, however much Sothis neither knew nor cared, Byleth’s screaming stopped and the metal and bone seemed to cool and solidify almost instantly. Another while later, Byleth stood up, looking down at her hands to find them covered in a new adornment. 

Where once had been her steel weapons, now there was a strange, gleaming pair of gauntlets seemingly crafted from eerily familiar bone. The ends of the fingers came to sharp, claw-like tips, and every junction the bone segments were hinged with steel joints. The knuckles, especially those on her pointer and middle fingers, had slight protrusions in the bone that seemed to form a sort of spike. 

Byleth tried to pull one of the gauntlets off, but found it pained her to do so. She worried that the melting of steel and bone might have permanently welded the armor to her skin, but upon further examination found something eerily worse. In the large openings in the bone she saw muscle, tendon, and other fibers connecting at a thousand different points within the strange macabre horrors that she now had where her hands once were. She moved one of her fingers, and saw muscle contract within the gauntlets as the action took place. It was as if they were now some twisted, weaponized exoskeleton. 

“I hope that they are to your liking.” Sothis paused, catching her breath. As Byleth snapped her attention up to the goddess in question, she heard a wet ‘thwack’ sound, and looked back down to notice her hands were completely normal, as if the gauntlets had never been there. 

The moment the thought of that bone and muscle mass crossed her mind, however, she watched as her arms seemed to almost explode open, and when she could finally focus in on what had happened, her arms were yet again adorned. 

“Because I’m afraid we don’t have time to make any alterations. You need to leave. Now.” Sothis ordered, marching over to the mercenary turned professor. She hesitated as she got near the woman, having reached out to take her hands but pausing, thinking as she looked Byleth in the eye. Her voice came out a bit fainter, wavering. “It is so bittersweet to say goodbye. I don’t know how you mortals do it. But please know, oaf, that of all my vessels, all my forms… I think I enjoyed my short time with you the most, even out of your former self. You have one final chance, Byleth. Don’t screw this one up. ” Sothis said as she took both of Byleth’s hands, somehow, and seemed to begin almost disappearing into the bone fading into complete nonexistence. 

Byleth felt a burning in her eyes as if someone had lit them on fire in her skull. She went to touch them, to try and smother the flames, but found the claws at the end of her gauntlet slicing through the very darkness itself, leaving bright, billowing gashes in the nothingness around her. She reached out and grasped the edges of the tear, pulling them farther apart and stepping through it. 

Catherine stood, Thunderbrand drawn and glowing in her shaking hands as she stared at the librarian turned monster before them who did nothing but cackle.

“Oh, you truly believe that little dagger of yours gives you a chance against the likes of me? I’ll do away with you easier than that little welp.” Tomas said, glowering over the charred corpse of Monica. 

“Bring her back!” Edelgard screamed, axe drawn and at the ready, inhibitions and self-preservation be damned. She would tear this bastard's throat out and beat Thales to death with it if need be to bring her Professor back. 

“And who are you, that you think I should listen to you, rat!” ‘Tomas’ cackled, grinning evilly as he dared her to reveal herself to the few allies she had left. 

“I’ll kill you, you fucking monster!” Catherine growled, barely audible to anyone but Edelgard. 

Swirling black energy began to form in Tomas’s hand, a spell forming with the intent to kill them all, until a massive, blindingly bright light formed in the very air between the mage and the students. A moment later, stood between them, was a tired and panting Byleth. 

“Letty!” “Professor!” Catherine and Edelgard said at the same time, relief evident in their faces, followed quickly by confusion as they noticed two very very strange things. 

First, they both noticed the strange armor on her fists, seemingly made bleach-white bone. Secondly, they both questioned their eyesight as Byleth turned to face them, and they noticed her eyes were almost uniformly seafoam green, with only flecs of her cobalt blue remaining. Her hair was in a slightly less uniform condition, with huge parts being either blue,green, or some strange place in between with almost no rhyme or reason to it.

Byleth turned back to the mage, fury burning in her strange new eyes. Solon lobbed his spell at her, a massive, pitch-black beam similar to a Thoron strike launched out, and Byleth held both her hands up to shield her face, only to feel her hands grow hot. After a pause, she looked to see her and her class unharmed, and her fists glowing bright, the spell seeming to have no effect. 

“Well, this certainly was an unforeseen variable…” Solon muttered, snapping his finger and disappearing into thin air. Edelgard and Catherine, along with the entirety of the Black Eagles, ran forward to try and check on Byleth. 

“Letty, holy hell what happened to you?!” Catherine called, Thunderbrand now sitting, discarded, to the side.

“Professor, Oh goddess, are you ok?! What did they do to you?! ” Edelgard practically sobbed, her voice getting lost in the cacophony of the other students. Perhaps it had become too much, or maybe Byleth had just exhausted herself in her escape, but for whatever reason, She collapsed in the middle of the party, now lying, unconscious, on the ground below them. 

Catherine and Edelgard shared a look, sighing as they leaned down to grab the woman under her arms and hoist her up. They managed the long walk back to the Monastery, quiet filling the ranks of the Black Eagle house as even the most rambunctious of them were seemingly too concerned with the state of their teacher to enjoy much about their victory. 

“What the hell happened to her hair? Do you think she’s ok? ” Leonie asked, leaning over to Ashe as they walked a bit of a ways behind the others. 

“I don’t know. But it looks...strange.” Ashe said with a shrug.

“That’s putting it lightly.” Leonie said, looking back at the mess that had been Byleth’s short, choppy hair. It was longer than it had been, significantly longer than Jeralt’s haircut which she had been emulating. But the length wasn’t what concerned her, no, it was the messy mismatched hair color. That seafoam green was spread throughout her hair like ink spilled on a white tablecloth. Large blotches of that color were spread throughout the original cobalt blue, and some strands seemed to start one color and end another. It was creepy. 

Byleth woke up later that night in Manuela’s medical bay, Catherine and Edelgard fast asleep on either side of her in their oddly familiar chairs, while a mop of orange hair seemed to be leaning back, napping against the leg of her cot, a similar mop of silver hair was beside it, looking strangely similar to what one might imagine Ashe might look like napping with her head on Leonie’s shoulder. 

Manuela looked up from her book, and smiled at Byleth as she saw her stirring. 

“You know, my dear, you all seem to spend an awful lot of time here in my infirmary. I ought to start charging rent for your class.” Byleth laughed, collapsing back onto the pillow and waving her off. 

“I’ll pay you in the morning.” Byleth muttered, falling back into a dreamless sleep. 

“Don’t go making promises you won’t keep, dear.” Manuela whispered to no one in particular. “Your family seems rather bad at that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, So I'm not going to lie, I agonized for MONTHS over whether I wanted to go with Body Horror Bone-Gauntlets or have them be just like, relic gauntlets from the sword that teleported on and off. But, I think at the end of the day I thought these fucking monstrosities I gave her fit the feeling of this story more, and kind of gave it more weight. I know a lot of folks felt sad about Sothis Dying an being so kinda thrown aside, and I didn't wanna spoil it but I wanted that dissapointment to be a reaction because I wanted to create the similarity between yall as the reader and Byleth as a character. She missed sothis and wanted her back, and so did yall. I feel like this chapter is kinda similar, I feel like an asshole for taking sothis away, giving her back and then taking her away again, lol. I really wanna hear yalls opinions on this chapter! So go nuts in the comments and lemme know what you all thought! 
> 
> Also, if folks ever feel like I should tag or mark certain topics or parts, lemme know and I’ll try to work on it.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage


	21. Chapter 21: Dead Girl Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the weeks following the failed attack on Garreg Mach fly by, Byleth deals with the ceaseless harassment of her fellow professors, while her partner is off somewhere in Faergus doing goddess-knows-what. Meanwhile, Edelgard and Hubert put in the final preparations for their fateful plan, and Edelgard asks a favor of Byleth, leading to Byleth gaining a much more in-depth understanding of Edelgard’s family, as well as getting an opportunity for a less-than-joyous conversation with Edelgard’s father. 
> 
> “ Bow down to the will Of a dead girl walking!” - Dead Girl Walking - Heathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone wanna hear the story of how six months ago I started writing an Edeleth fic and it literally hit 200k words before Edelgard and Byleth even fucked? No? Well guess what motherfuckers you’re hearing it. I can not BELIEVE this fic has gotten as big as it has, but honestly thank you everyone who has been reading, cus like y’all make this shit so much fun to put out. 
> 
> This week I was hella busy, out doing some organizing shit in my community, so I did NOT get the opportunity to proofread this as well as I would have liked to, but, I think y’all will enjoy. 
> 
> Ok, as for warnings, lemme give some heads up: Byleth and Edelgard fuck. I’ve had it planned to happen at this point since the jump, but I know Byleth still being El’s teacher can skeeve some folks out. There’s some light Dom/Sub content, earlier in the story there are some references to torture, trauma, lots of allusions to deaths hinted to have been overdose or suicides but the hints are very very brief, so like, I still wanna warn folks but don’t wanna scare y’all off. This one I got a LOT of space to play around with the members of Edelgard’s family we never really get to see, and I hope y’all enjoy. 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage
> 
> I'll give my usual plug to The Unqualified 1 (She's anything but) https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1

Chapter 21 Dead Girl Walking

The next chilly Sunday morning after the attack on the Monastery, Mercedes knocked on the heavily reinforced door she knew led to Flayn’s room as she clutched a stack of notes to her chest and waited patiently for the young woman in question to answer. 

“Just a moment, Mercy!” Flayn called from the other side of the door, and after a few seconds and some rushed footsteps, Flayn stepped out to find the taller student beaming down at her. “Hi!” 

“Hehehe, good morning Flayn. How did you know it was me?” Mercedes rested her stack of notes against her hip. 

“Your knock! You always knock so softly, if I weren’t listening I'd likely miss it.” Flayn pointed out. 

“Oh, well aren’t you perceptive.” Mercedes teased, before holding up her stack of papers. “Are you ready for our session today?” Flayn nodded quickly. 

“Let me grab my things and we can get to it!” Flayn realized she may be yelling a bit louder than was necessary, and tried to calm herself as she skittered off, returning a moment later with a heavy bag full of books and papers. Her speed seemed to startle Mercedes, but she had gotten somewhat used to Flayn’s many ‘peculiarities’. The two moved to the dining room unbothered.

“Have you been enjoying your sunday so far?” Flayn asked, toying with the strap of her bag. “You seemed rather distracted at service this morning. Not that, um, I was looking or anything. I just noticed during the hymns.” Flayn blushed a bit, looking toward a very, very interesting tile on the wall as she tried to avoid Mercedes gaze. She was still adjusting to interacting with people outside of Seteth and Rhea so regularly. 

“Hehe, oh you’re too cute.” Mercedes said, patting the girl on the head. Flayn wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. “But I’m fine, Flayn, there’s no need to worry. I had just received a letter from my father that was rather, well, distracting.” Mercedes said, wondering to herself if ‘distracting’ was the proper word. 

“Oh?” Flayn asked. Mercedes didn’t mention her adoptive father very often. “What did it say? It must have been dreadful if it bothered you so much as to distract you from something you care for as much as the church?” 

“Well, it was just more of the same from him as of late. Ever since he took me from the orphanage, he’s been obsessed with wedding me to this or that noble for my crest.” Mercedes felt a bit awkward, knowing that these were her own problems, not Flayn’s to deal with. “I’m sorry, that’s a bit depressing of a topic for a study date.” 

“Oh no, Mercy don’t worry. You don’t have to hold back for my sake.” Flayn assured, resting her hand on Mercedes arm, hoping it came across as reassuring and not creepy. 

“It’s nothing new, really. He’s a merchant, after all, so I suppose it makes sense he’d do his best to try and get a good deal after taking me in.” Mercedes said, trying to keep her attention forward as she guided Flayn down the stairs. 

“I may not have the best understanding, but I don’t really think family is the type of thing you try to ‘get a good deal’ out of.” Flayn nearly tripped on one step but managed to hold her balance. 

“I suppose not.” They moved on, past the stairs and into the dining hall. Toward the far corner of the room, an empty dining table sat. “Will you be ok studying here? I worry that the chatter might make it harder on you.” Flayn always did seem to have issues focusing. 

“I should be fine. The chatter might actually help. I used to read by a stream because the background noise made it easier for me to focus on the pages.” Flayn giggled. “Besides, at least here my brother can’t come and bother us every ten minutes checking up on me.” 

“I suppose that is a bit difficult to study around.” Mercedes said, sitting beside Flayn on the bench seat as they pulled out their notes. They were in the middle of studying for their next certification exam, and Flayn was behind the rest of the class in combat, however her skills with healing magic were beyond impressive. She was hoping to test into a position as a Priest, and while the practical element of the exam would be a breeze for her, the portion around combat tactics had her frustrated beyond all regard. Mercedes, meanwhile, found herself studying to test on her sword fighting, her studies in healing magic having been put on hold as she tried to expand her ability to fight as well as heal. 

It was about an hour after they began when things started getting difficult. 

“I just don’t understand.” Flayn said, slamming her head down on the book in front of her. “The Pegasus Knights are vulnerable to arrows, and an archer’s abilities to hit is significantly reduced when fighters are in cover, but for some reason the test marks you down if you suggest the Pegasus Knights travel through the wooded regions to get closer to the Archers before striking.” 

“They mark you down because your Pegasus Knights would need to dismount, or at least ground their mounts if they intend to travel through wooded terrain. That would slow your team and, thus, you get a deduction.” Mercy explained. Flayn could only fight the urge to pull her hair out. 

“But would it not be better to have more troops alive and slow than dead quickly?” Flayn snapped, realizing a moment too late how angry it came out. “I’m sorry, Mercedes. I...I let it get to me again.” Flayn said, quietly. Taking a breath as she tried to calm herself. “I just don’t get it. I’m barely able to figure out my own choices in the day to day, without having Seteth basically plan my life to the moment for me, and yet now I have to learn how to plan a strategy for over a dozen other people. It’s just...hard.” 

“It’s ok, you’re trying and that is what’s important.” Mercedes said, patting Flayn on the shoulder reassuringly. “Do you want to take a break? You can help me with my healing magic.” Flayn looked over, a bit confused. 

“But you won’t need that for your next exam.” 

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t keep studying it.” Mercedes pointed out, only half telling the truth. She knew she needed to keep practicing her magic outside of just for exams, but she also knew that healing magic was an area where Flayn not only excelled, but absolutely lit up when she was able to talk about it. It was a good way to distract her when she started getting overwhelmed. 

“Oh, ok. Then sure, I would love to help! What are you working on?” Mercedes reached over, pulling a healing tome out of her bag and turning toward a page on fortification and group healing. “Oh! This is one of my favorites.” Flayn said as she read the title of the chapter. Mercedes feigned surprise, but she’d had the chapter dog eared for almost three weeks since she heard Flayn mentioning it. She thought it might be a good idea to have, just in case she needed an excuse to talk to Flayn. It made her feel a bit guilty to think like that, but, well, she was never the best as being social either. 

They spent another hour there, with Flayn belting out tips and facts about fortification, group healing, and area of effect spells. Mercedes and her spent some time walking through the various gestures necessary to focus the energy for the spell, and at one point Mercedes went absolutely beat red as Flayn took her hand, adjusting her fingers slightly to show her the proper form. 

She felt a bit disappointed when she felt Flayn’s hand leave her own, but didn’t say anything. With how much Flayn was dealing with, between her brother, her adjusting to life in the Academy, and her issues studying, Mercedes had thought it better to let her adjust to her life more before saying anything about just how affectionate she had grown for the woman in such a short time. The letter from her father had made it rather clear she needed to grow a bit more in her own life as well. 

After almost an entire other hour of study they began packing up their books and papers, preparing to leave. Mercedes had just stood up, saying goodbye, when Flayn almost fell out of the bench seat in her rush to stand up. 

“Wait, Mercy!” She shouted, tripping over her own foot and having to stand back up, dusting herself off as she continued. “I was wondering, well, the ladies in the kitchen are giving cooking lessons this afternoon, and, um, I was wondering if you would want to go to one with me?” The awkward smile on Flayn’s face made Mercedes face red yet again. 

“I would love to!” Mercedes realized she was squeezing the book in her hand so hard she might crush it. 

Byleth sat in Hanneman’s office as the man in question, as well as Manuela were running about one thousand and one tests on her and the bone gauntlets which she had currently out, hands splayed wide as Manuela ran a single magical hand over, examining the anatomy of the muscle beneath as she took notes. They’d been doing this same absolute nonsense for over a week now, and Byleth couldn’t imagine a way she could be more bored. 

“Ok, Professor,” Hanneman began. 

“For the love of the goddess, Hanneman, I have told you how many times now? It’s Byleth.” Byleth glowered, her fist clenching as she glared the man down. He seemed to not notice her response as he continued on, drawing a large vial of blood from her arm and walking to a strange pedestal in the middle of the room. 

“I’m still struggling to find exactly what your crest is, but hopefully this larger sample will allow my crest projector to give a more full image for our study. If not, I’m sure we can simply draw another larger sample and continue from there. It really should be no bother.” 

“Easy to say when it isn’t your damn blood.” Byleth muttered, wincing a bit as Manuela prodded a smaller muscle group through a gap in her bone.

“Apologies, Byleth. I’ll be more gentle. Just ignore Hanneman, he’s a bit of an ass when he is interested in an examination.” Manuela said, looking at the man as he poured out the vial of blood onto the stone at the center of the room. 

“It’s not like I have much of a choice. Archbishops orders, right?” Byleth said, resting her head in one bone-encased hand. She could remember the way that Seteth and Lady Rhea had reacted upon seeing her new ‘addition’ to her arsenal. Seteth, as if he were all but desperate to rip the gauntlets off of her, and the Archbishop had looked at her as if she had just given the woman the greatest birthday present in the world. 

Had Byleth not been still recovering from her loss of consciousness the day before, she might have actually heard some of the details of what was supposed to happen from here, but all she could remember was she had about another month and change until she was to accompany the Archbishop to some strange segment of the Catacombs beneath the Academy, and until then she had another three weeks of these tests, experiments and whatever the hell else. The only thing that stuck with Byleth was the look in the Archbishop’s eyes. It was a joyous look, but less the joy of a person, and more the joy of a predator that saw prey in its grasp. 

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it. You can’t avoid it, so why let it get to you?” Manuela asked, shrugging as she drew another bundle of muscle on the diagram she had been annotating. 

“Because at least that is something to do. I’ve been so damn bored all week, in and out of these little chats with you two.” Manuela looked over at her, curious. 

“What about Catherine? You two have been rather inseparable the past few months. Spend some time with her.” Manuela offered. Byleth rolled her eyes. 

“The Archbishop has had her running around the Kingdom for the past week, and from the sounds of it that’s not going to stop any time soon.” Byleth whined, quite unaware of the chuckle that got from Manuela. 

“Seems like the damndest of luck, as if the goddess herself is trying to keep you two apart. Wonder who you pissed off to get that target.” Manuela teased. 

“More like the Archbishop than the goddess.” Byleth mumbled, her mind being torn between her sadness as she remembered the fact that the silence she had grown so used to in her mind at Sothis’s absence was now well and truly permanent, and distrust as she remembered her father’s note. 

All she could think of, however, was why? Why would the archbishop want her and Catherine apart. Why was she suddenly so interested in her after all these months? Was it so simple as her hair and eyes now sharing the same color? But that didn’t explain why she had acted so strangely after Jeralt’s death. Something had to be missing. But what? 

“Now, I think someone’s getting a bit paranoid.” Manuela said with a giggle, patting Byleth’s bare forearm as she returned to her examination. 

“Perhaps.” Byleth said, but she knew when her gut told her something was wrong, and something felt so very, very wrong. 

“Well, is there anything you could do to get you out of your lousy mood? I mean your class is on break until after the Archbishop’s mission for you, so why not bond with them?” 

“I’m trying to. Edelgard and I are actually getting tea today, once we’re all done here, and tomorrow morning I’ll be helping Ashe and Caspar with axe training.” 

“Professor, I think you will be needing to cancel those plans. My most pressing experiments will need to occur later this evening and I really don’t-” Hanneman heard something snap, and looked over to see the arm of the large lounge chair Byleth was currently sat in had been crushed in the grasp of the gauntlet-clad hand Manuela was not currently studying.

“You were saying, Hanneman?” Byleth asked, as if she were completely unaware of the damage to the chair. 

“Nothing. Enjoy your afternoon.” He said, badly trying to cover his fear as he turned back to the pedestal, charting out the crest segments as they displayed in the air. Manuela could only laugh as she took a few more notes. 

“Perhaps you and Kitten have been spending a little too much time together.” Byleth gave Manuela a confused look, and Manuela seemed to refused to meet her eyes, instead getting very focused on her work. Or as was much more likely, just realizing her little slip-of-the-tongue and refusing to leave any opportunities for Byleth to ask her to clarify. 

“Lady Edelgard, please calm yourself. If you pace much longer you will carve a hole through the floor.” Hubert was standing in the corner of Edelgard’s room as she walked around the remaining floor space. 

“I can’t relax, Hubert. Far too much is in play already, and we are on so much shorter of a timeline than I had expected.” Edelgard lamented. “The journey to the Catacombs is the best opportunity we’ll have to collect the crest stones, and Thales made it clear that if we are not able to collect those stones then the ‘less than stellar performance’ of ours at Solon and Kronya’s surprise last week will not be forgiven lightly. We have four weeks, but that is still over a month and a half before I intended to journey to the empire to take my position as Empress. Now I have to scramble to not only organize our troops, but to arrange to get to and from Enbar before the mission in a month. I should have everything ready about a week before the mission, and that should be just barely enough time to receive the title from my father, and return for whatever twisted ceremony that woman and her cult have in store for the professor.” Hubert noticed Edelgard go a bit stiff at the mention of the woman. “But.” She began after a short pause. “I have no way to arrange transport of that nature with so little time. I would need to travel alone, on Phlegon if I want to remain on schedule.” 

“Lady Edelgard, I refuse. That is far too dangerous. At least allow me to accompany you.” Hubert said adamantly. 

“That’s not an option, Hubert. You need to remain here to ensure our plans remain in place for our attack. As well, if both of us were to disappear, there’s no telling what kind of suspicion could be raised, what questions asked that could lead to our men being discovered. I simply can’t abide that risk.” 

“Well I will not abide you potentially dying in a river or at the blade of some bandit because you foolishly flew off on your own.” Hubert said, concern leaking into his voice. “Find someone to accompany you or we will find another plan. I insist.” 

“There is no other plan, Hubert.” Edelgard’s voice was as desperate as his was concerned. 

“Then I suppose you had best find someone you can trust to accompany you. I will not watch your desperation to avenge your siblings lead you to joining them!” Hubert said, his voice rising to the point he was thankful he’d cast a silencing spell on the room before they’d begun speaking. 

That sentence sent visible shock through Edelgard. Hubert rarely raised his voice around her. It was something she’d almost forgotten he was capable of. But the fraternal protectiveness apparent in his eyes was clear as day as he adjusted his collar, flattening out the front of his jacket. 

“I… apologize, Lady Edelgard. That was improper of me.” Edelgard laughed. 

“Hubert, little about this situation is ‘proper’. You’re right...but that is the issue, then, isn’t it. There’s no one else I can trust. You are it, and have been it since this whole morbid quest began...”Edelgard heaved a sigh and sat down at the edge of her bed, resting her head in her hands as the weight of everything seemed to fall onto her shoulders. “That’s...that’s not true…” 

“No. It isn’t.” Hubert whispered to himself. He hated to have to rely on that brutish woman, but at the same time he knew that it was the choice between nightshade and a dagger, your only real option was to ask how large a dose and who was swinging the blade, and decide from there. He would be lying if he didn’t admit that he had also grown a twisted sort of respect for the woman, even if he did still wish to pay her in kind for the pain she had inflicted on Edelgard in Remire. 

“I suppose I’ll have to decide sooner rather than later if I can trust her.” Edelgard shook her head and let out a long sigh. Hubert nodded, walking over and resting his hand on her shoulder, patting gently. “I’ll ask her today. At tea. If she says yes...I suppose we’ll go from there.” 

“And if she says no?” Hubert asked. He didn’t mean it to demoralize her, but he wanted to ensure that she was as prepared for the good outcome as the bad. 

“Then she will be one more name to add to the list of people I will have lost on this journey. If need be, then so shall it. I can mourn that when my duty is done and our motherland is free.” Edelgard said, releasing a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “We have given too much to let just one woman derail it.” 

Hubert saw in the strong set of her jaw and shoulders that this was the Edelgard he had followed for so long. The brilliant leader who knew how to look past herself toward the larger needs of the struggle. He had missed her when she had been forced to all but cower at the order of Thales and under the sharp eye of Kronya. 

“I wish you the best, Lady Edelgard.” 

“Thank you, Hubert.” Edelgard said. 

“Of course.” Hubert said, leaning in and wrapping Edelgard in a hug that she returned it in kind.

Byleth collapsed onto the chair in her spot under the Gazebo as she saw Edelgard preparing the teapot and pastries. 

“Someone seems to be rather drained.” Edelgard said tauntingly, feeling a bit awkward as she slid a glass of tea over to her Professor. Byleth took it happily and sipped at it, thankful that she has the opportunity to relax. 

“That is putting it lightly. I’d rather gamble my life on trying to make Hubert smile than go to another day of Hanneman’s damn prodding.” Edelgard chuckled, rolling her eyes at the remark. 

“It really is not that difficult to make Hubert smile, Professor.” 

“Maybe not for you.” Byleth said, before thanking her for the tea. “But I think I’ve made that man smile once in the entire time I’ve been here, once!” Byleth emphasized. “And even then, I’m almost positive that it was only because I smashed my head into a tree. But that’s not important. The only upside to all this nonsense with the other professors is at the very least this next week they’ll be wanting to watch me run through drills and combat, and then I’ll be able to hit something to satiate my boredom.” Byleth muttered. “Thank you.” She said as Edelgard slid her a strawberry pastry. 

“‘Satiate’?” Edelgard asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. I just think that’s the largest word I’ve ever heard you use before that didn’t involve some sort of swear.” Edelgard taunted. 

“It’s Hanneman, I swear. That damn man has his head split, half of it up his ass and the other half stuck in a book full of words.” Byleth muttered, sipping from her glass again. 

“Professor, all books are full of words.” Edelgard said, barely holding back a laugh. 

“Oh you know what I mean, the books that have all the words listed out in them with the, like, meanings next to them.” Edelgard looked at the woman half affectionately and half utterly shocked at the sheer stupidity. 

“Do you mean a Thesaurus, Professor?” Byleth shot up in her chair. 

“Yes! That’s the word, thank you.” she said, sitting back triumphantly as Edelgard could only continue to shake her head. 

This was the woman she had allowed to somehow capture her heart? The one she was going to stake her life on? But then again, she supposed that Byleth’s skills as a fighter made that last point much less questionable than the first. 

Edelgard patted Byleth’s hand almost mockingly. But she found herself feeling rather emboldened, letting her hand rest over top of her Professor’s, now that she felt a bit more safe in knowing that whatever had happened to her, whatever had made her hair and eyes that strange green and created those monstrous weapons she knew lay just beneath Byleth’s skin, hadn’t seemed to change her personality. There had been several nights where she had wondered if it all was some sign of her moving toward the side of the church, of the Archbishop, but it seemed as far as she could tell, little had changed about her Professor, and she was thankful for that. She wasn’t sure what she expected when she set her hand where it was, but when Byleth took it in her grasp, absentmindedly running her rough, calloused thumb up and down the length of one of her silk-covered knuckles, she felt her heart slam against her sternum like a war hammer. A while passed, the two just sat there, hands slightly awkwardly intertwined as they drank their tea. Edelgard eventually thought it was as good a time as any to finally step off the ledge and ask what she had been dreading this whole afternoon, but took another bite to buy herself time as she tried to think of the words. 

“So, how long are they going to be examining you?” Byleth rolled her eyes. 

“Two and half more weeks. Then the Archbishop ordered them to give me a bit of time off before whatever mission she has in store for us after that. Something about needing me well-rested.” Edelgard looked a bit taken aback. “Why do you ask?” Byleth continued on, looking over at the emperor-to-be, whose hand was still oh so casually held in her own. Edelgard sighed, her hand squeezing Byleth’s without quite realizing it. When Byleth squeezed back, Edelgard found an odd sense of reassurance in the act. 

“I was hoping you would be willing to assist me on an errand of sorts during the last week of this month. I have some business to attend to in Enbarr, and I would appreciate your accompaniment for the journey.” Byleth nodded, being in the middle of a drink, and quickly set her cup down, wiping a bit of tea from her lip with the back of her sleeve. 

“OK.” Byleth said, making Edelgard do a double take. 

“Ok?” 

“Yeah, Ok, I’m in.” This made Edelgard do yet another double take. 

“Just, just like that?” Byleth shrugged. 

“Sure, why the hell not. They won’t let me teach, barely let me train, and they haven’t told me I’m not allowed to leave the campus, so why the hell not? Worst that can happen is we run into some bandits and I get to throw them around and really test what my new weapons can actually do. Sounds like fun to me.” Edelgard shook her head, squeezing Byleth’s hand again. 

“Don’t ever change, Byleth.” Her Professor laughed and squeezed back, yet again. 

“I don’t intend to.”

Later that day, when Hubert found his door being pounded on a few minutes before he intended to go to sleep, he had expected the worst. He had expected to open the door to his dorm to find Edelgard on the verge of tears, and he expected to spend the rest of the night trying to find a way to get her to Enbarr safely so that he might not spend the last week of this dreadful month in constant terror of news of her death. Perhaps that had been a bit overly dramatic, but he was protective, could he really be blamed?

Instead, he opened the door to one of the brightest, most genuine smiles he had ever seen on Edelgard’s face as she leapt at him, tackling him in a hug. 

“She said yes!” Edelgard whispered loudly as they climbed up off the floor. 

Hubert lost several hours of sleep arranging the various details that would need to be in place to make their travels run smoothly, but even then as he and Edelgard made sure the details were all precise, he found the woman’s smile infectious, and couldn’t help but grin as he noticed that Edelgard only accounted for them needing one tent. He almost thought he ought to say something, but when he saw the tent was in fact a two-person tent, and there were two bedrolls on the supply list, he thought better of it. 

Catherine grumbled to herself as they walked through the cold mud of the northern forests of Faergus, the previous night’s rain having left them a rather lovely surprise when the trail they’d been following was completely ruined. They’d been tracking poachers for nearly 3 weeks now, and it was getting to the point where Catherine was starting to doubt the poachers even existed. 

“Hell, it’s like stepping in a pile of shit. But like, every step!” Fredrique complained, not far behind Catherine. The blonde knight, however much the mud had done to dampen that blonde not withstanding, had to fight the urge to tell him to shut up, but thankfully it seemed their third member was one step ahead of her. 

“Reekee, shut the fuck up. I’m not carrying you again.” Joseph muttered, trying to ignore the shorter redhead’s pout. He knew if he looked down at those puppy dog eyes he’d cave yet again, just like he had the last three days in a row. 

“I’m just trying to make some stimulating conversation, babe.” Fredrique whined. 

“Yeah, well you can shut it, or my foot is going to have a really ‘stimulating conversation’ with the side of your damn head!” Catherine shouted back. 

“Damn, bitch, fine.” Fredrique began lagging behind a little bit on the trail until he and his husband were safely at the edge of earshot. “What the hell is wrong with her?” 

“Same thing that’s wrong with us, Reekee. This mission is shit, useless busy work.” 

“Yeah, but we’re not screaming at her at the top of our lungs for trying to lighten the mood.” Fredrique grumbled, earning a pat on the shoulder from Joe. 

“Well, we’re not stuck in a dirty forest alone, several weeks out from having seen our partner. Or whatever the hell she calls the professor.” Joe pointed out, earning a slight bit of sympathy from Fredrique. 

“Ok, ok, that is true. I don’t know what I’d do stuck out here without you…” He said, scratching at the back of his neck. Joseph leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. 

“Don’t worry babe, I’m not going anywhere. Just don’t piss Cat off too bad. I don’t feel like watching her choke your ass out again.” Joseph teased, helping Fredrique step over an especially tall log in their path.

“Fine, I’ll let up. I just, I don’t know, shit feels too tense around her now. I mean, do you think Jeralt was right?” Fredrique asked, whispering barely above silence. 

“Be careful.” Joe said, looking around cautiously. He saw Catherine didn’t seem to hear them. “You read the note, same as me. “Don’t trust Rhea, don’t trust Catherine, don’t trust anyone.’ I don’t know anything more than you do.” Joseph pointed out. 

“I know, but I just… could Rhea really be the one fucking with Catherine’s head? I mean I knew that bitch had Catherine around her finger, but I just thought it was her ass, not something like magic.” Joseph rolled his eyes. 

“Sterling observation as always, love. But we can’t know for certain. We have no idea what or how, but we know something’s fucking with Cat’s head, and we gotta be safe around her. If Jeralt warned us, he had to have a reason.” Joe said, ashamed to be talking about his friend behind her back.

“I just worry, you know?” Fredrique said quietly. 

“Yeah, I know Reekee.” Joe said, patting him on his shoulder. The two were startled from their thoughts as Catherine stumbled out of the woods, back onto the path. 

“There you two are. I got all turned ass backwards and couldn’t find you.” She said, wiping some dirt off of her face only to smear it along her cheek. “So, what did I miss?” 

“Nothing!” Fredrique said, obviously lying. 

“Just a little dirty talk.” Joe added cooly, earning a disgusted look from Catherine. 

“Oh hell, Joe, I would prefer Fredrique’s bad lying to the truth on that one. You’re like my dad!” Catherine said, walking away yet again. Fredrique could only shake his head. 

“Why is that always your go to line?” He asked, getting a shrug in return.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” 

Just before dawn on the first day of Byleth’s supposed “week off”, the professor in question found herself rolling out of bed as she always did, hastily grabbing a bundle of clean clothes as she moved to the bathhouse, knowing that she likely wouldn’t be bathing for several days between the Monastery and Enbarr. Edelgard had assured her that all preparations would be made, and ready for them to leave promptly that morning. 

Byleth sunk into the heat of the water and felt several joints pop as she adjusted herself, feeling her sore muscles relaxing at the heat. She’d spent most of the past week doing drills and sparring with her gauntlets, and while she was thankful for the extra practice, especially as relates to controlling when her hands changed, that didn’t make it any less tiring, nor her any less sore. She took her time cleaning off, dunking her head under the water to wet the mop of messy blue and green hair that sat atop her head. 

She finished her bath, drying quickly as she moved toward the stable, taking a moment to grab and double check her bag from her room. Everything seemed packed and accounted for. Byleth also made sure to leave a note on her desk in case Catherine returned before her and came looking. 

“Went to help Edelgard with business in Enbarr, I’ll be back soon. I love you.” She wrote out, barely legible in her chicken scratch handwriting. She didn’t even think about what she’d written in the final sentence. She rushed out the door and quickly found herself at the stables, Phlegon hitched with a double saddle and already loaded with equipment, a spot left for one large bag. 

“Professor!” Edelgard greeted, running over with a short length of rope. “I’m glad you made it so early, I just need to lash down your bag and we can leave. Thank you again for agreeing to help.” Edelgard said, taking Byleth’s bag as it was handed to her. 

“Not a problem, Edelgard. I told you, I intend to do everything I can to help you reach your goals.” Byleth said curtly. Edelgard looked at her for a second, smiling and trying not to let herself go red at the reassurance.

“I suppose you did.” 

“Maybe someone should try and pay more attention when I speak, in and out of lectures.” Byleth taunted, walking over and helping tie the last knot in the small rig that held all the gear on the Wyvern’s back. 

“Perhaps. But then again, if I’m not paying attention does that not reflect worse on your skill as a teacher than on myself?” Edelgard asked, leaning against the wyvern as relaxed as she could, the veneer of calm shattered as the scaled creature turned her head and let Edelgard drop onto the ground. 

“I suppose, and that little incident reflects more on who, you or Phlegon?” Byleth asked, helping Edelgard up as they both proceeded to hop onto the horse and ride out of the large gate just to the south of the stable. 

Byleth never thought to ask why only one mount had been prepared. She assumed there was some sort of reason, and didn’t have a big enough issue with the prospect to bother asking. Edelgard, unaware of the actual reasoning behind her willingness to just go along with the plan, simply thanked the goddess that she didn’t have to try to come up with some excuse, when she really just wanted to leave as little of a trail as possible, and the fewer animals missing from the stable the better. 

She did however take some time to brush Phlegon’s scales before she left, giving the tiny beast a hug around her scaly neck before Byleth had even arrived as a way to apologize ahead of time for the double-load. 

They rode on Phlegon’s back in a peaceful quiet for the first few hours, simply watching the scenery roll away beneath them as they flitted on the wind south to Enbarr, making sure to keep close to the road to avoid getting lost. Byleth didn’t like to admit it, but the sensation of being on a wyvern again slowly began to bring her back to the flashes she remembered of her ride back from Miklan’s tower. Those memories did little to steady her nerves as she felt a bit nauseous at the bumps and drops they experienced on the wind. 

“Pro...Byleth, you are moving around quite a bit, are you ok?” Edelgard asked, looking back over her shoulder to her travel companion. Byleth nodded yes, leaning in just a bit closer to talk back. 

“Just a bit, um, uneasy. Not a whole lot of good memories on wyvern’s and all.” Byleth said, almost embarrassed to admit such a simple thing was getting to her. 

“Ah! Ok, that makes a bit of sense. I’m not sure what to say. Grab onto something and hope it passes?” Byleth shrugged, seeing the logic in the idea, and leaned forward a bit, wrapping her arms around the midsection of the woman in front of her, feeling her go stiff. “Um, Byleth, what are you doing?” Edelgard asked. 

“Grabbing onto something?” Byleth offered, not seeing the issue. 

“Oh! Of course.” Edelgard relaxed just a bit, going back to her flying. The new feeling around her stomach felt oddly comforting. 

“So, what sort of food did you pack along for the trip?” Byleth asked, a bit muffled by the positioning of her head to maintain her grip. 

“Some salted meat, a few gallons of water, some preserved vegetables and a bit of fruit.”Edelgard rattled off the list quickly. Byleth stayed silent, as if she were waiting for something. After a while another thought crossed Edelgard’s mind. “Oh! And I packed some dried bergamot tea and a few pastries courtesy of the cooks in the dining hall.” Byleth began laughing, pressing her face into Edelgard’s shoulder to muffle the loud cackle. 

“What?” Edelgard asked, a bit offended. 

“Nothing, Edelgard. Just glad to see you didn’t forget the essentials.” Edelgard rolled her eyes at that remark, but her face was still in a wide grin. 

“Oh please, as if everything you packed for yourself was only the absolute essentials.” 

“It absolutely was.” Byleth said confidently. 

“Oh? Well then why was it that I seemed to notice a rather large piece of cream colored fabric jutting out of your bag when I was lashing it down?” Edelgard teased, feeling Byleth’s face grow a bit warmer against her back. 

“They’re comfortable nightclothes, what the hell do you want from me?” Byleth muttered to herself, earning a victorious laugh from Edelgard. “Oh whatever, fine, you win.” Edelgard sat a bit taller, however she wasn’t exactly sure what she had won. 

The conversation settled into a comfortable quiet as the wind rushed past them and the flap of Phlegon’s wings gave them background noise that struck Byleth as soothing. Edelgard noticed, slowly over some time, the grip on her waist grow laxer as the weight of Byleth’s head on her back grew heavier, and before long she heard quiet snoring from behind her. 

Byleth had fallen asleep on the back of a flying wyvern. Edelgard didn’t know whether to be more insulted or impressed. When they finally touched down for the first night of camping Byleth took the time to put up the large, 2 person tent while Edelgard spent that time cooking a stark, but thankfully edible, dinner. It was obvious who took first watch that night.

The next morning, as they readied Phlegon for another days ride, the lithe wyvern seemed intent on giving them as much hassle as possible. 

“Phlegon! Get over here!” Edelgard called, trying to strap the tent bag to the antsy wyvern’s saddle. 

“What in the hell has gotten into her?” Byleth asked, reaching out for the pale beast’s reins only for her to seemingly predict her move and slide away. 

“I have absolutely no idea, she seems like she’s gone completely mad.” 

“Well, something certainly seems to be getting her goat.” At the mention of the word goat, Byleth found herself being tackled to the ground by the beast, barely managing to not have all the air forced out of her lungs as she felt the massive beast’s tongue drag along her face expectantly, pulling away just to stare at her, drool dripping onto Byleth’s face. 

“Professor, are you allright?” Edelgard asked. 

“Peachy. Just fucking peachy.” Byleth choked out weakly. “Edelgard, did you by chance feed Phlegon last night?” Edelgard looked at her confused. 

“I thought Wyvern’s hunted their own food, that’s why they work as such good mounts.” 

“Most wyverns, yes. But it would seem your mount, while a lovely one, might just be a tad lazy.” Byleth felt Phlegon shift her weight, and she swore she heard a rib pop as the beast quite literally sat on her, Byleth’s head barely sticking out from under one wing. She wanted to choke out something along the lines of ‘Oh you have got to be kidding me!’, but found that energy better put toward breathing. 

Edelgard hurriedly ran to her supply bag, grabbing one of the largest chunks of salt beef in it and flinging it several feet away from Byleth. As soon as the meat was in the air, Phlegon leapt up and snapped it between her jaws before it even touched the ground. Byleth gasped for air, thankful for every breath as she crawled up off of the ground. 

Edelgard shook her head. She was now on a journey with a lazy mount and a professor who, while brave and a master at unarmed combat, could cheritably be called ‘dim’. She really could not fathom the turns in her life that led her to here, but as much as she found funny about the whole ordeal, she found it equally heartwarming. 

Finally, early the next morning after another night of camping they found their way to Enbarr, and were escorted to the heart of the capital, the Hresvelg Manor. Byleth was absolutely speechless at the ornate gold and crimson decor, from the grand tapestries, to the ornate metal stampings of the golden Hresvelg Eagle on a bright red steel backdrop. 

“This is absolutely unbelievable.” Byleth muttered under her breath. 

“It’s much more glitter than gold.” Edelgard said quietly in response. Byleth realized she was trailing behind the armed knights that were escorting her and Edelgard into the manor, toward the throne room. 

“I might believe it, but even then, I have never seen shit this fancy before.” 

“Byleth!” Edelgard chided, slapping her arm. 

“What?” Byleth whisper-yelled back. 

“Language!” Oh fuck, right, that. Edelgard heaved a sigh and continued on, the long hallway lined with red and gold tapestries, broken up every so often with large portraits.

“Why are these arranged the way they are?” Byleth asked, pointing to the portraits. 

“How do you mean? They’re chronological.” Byleth looked at her, expectantly. It took Edelgard a minute to understand. “They’re arranged in the order they were made. Oldest toward the entrance, newest toward the throne room.” Byleth nodded, understanding the idea now. 

Byleth watched as the portraits changed each time they passed a new one. She could see a young girl she thought to be Edelgard, given the lilac eyes, but her hair was brown. The portrait showed a smiling man in a grand crimson cloak sat on a throne, several women, nearly a dozen at Byleth’s guess, stood around him with children of various ages stood around or held in their arms. As they passed another, Byleth saw the kids had been rearranged, being held by different women, but seeming no less loving or loved. Edelgard looked to be about eight in that portrait. The next portrait made Byleth stop dead in her tracks.

The first thing that caught her eye, the thing that made her stop, was the fact the Edelgard’s hair in the next portrait was the same shock-white it was to this day. The next thing Byleth noticed was Edelgard standing alone among the dozen women who all stood around her, almost militantly protective. The man on the throne was no longer smiling, and while Edelgard seemed at most two years older, he seemed to have aged decades. Byleth felt her breathing shutter as she realized what must have happened between this portrait and the last. 

“Byleth.” Edelgard said quietly, stood beside her, not looking at the portrait. Byleth chewed on her lip, trying to calm the wildfire burning itself anew in her veins. 

“This...this is after. Isn’t it?” Byleth looked Edelgard in the eye, and Edelgard saw shame in Byleth’s eyes. As if she blamed herself for not being able to be there and help. Edelgard nodded, still not acknowledging the painting. Byleth looked back, trying to find something, and Edelgard quickly realized what. 

“You won’t find her on there. My mother. That was, well it was after she left. We never quite knew what happened to her.” Byleth stopped, a bit ashamed that her searching had been so obvious. 

“I...I guess I figured the way those women where stood around you, one of them had to be…” Byleth said. 

“In a sense, they all were.” Edelgard finally looked at the painting, seeing so many eyes she had not looked into in years. “I’ve told you before, Adrestia is not exactly traditional in it’s view of family. It’s helpful, in times of strife because communities band together easily and orphans don’t tend to go long without homes. Well, while my mother raised me, she never did it alone. Father was always busy, but she and the rest of them would help each other when it came to us. In a way, even if we lived in different parts of the manner, and weren’t fully blood, we were all a sort of family. A very, very messy family.” Edelgard’s voice cracked at the word ‘family’. Byleth reached over, resting her hand on Edelgard’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. Edelgard laid a glove-covered hand over Byleth’s bare skin, and squeezed it back. 

“You don’t have to-”

“Yes. I do.” Edelgard cut Byleth off, taking a deep breath and steeling herself as she continued on. “I, when I came back... when only I came back, I had expected them to hate me. To wonder why it couldn’t have been Michael, or Malcolm, or Daniel or Alexandra who returned alive. I expected them to despise me and ignore me. In a way I almost hoped for it, hoped that I could be left to my own and just try to forget that it had all happened.” Byleth felt the grip on her hand tighten like a vice. “But that’s not what happened… Do you want to know what they said, when I first returned to the land of the living?” 

“Only if you feel comfortable sharing it.” 

“Oh Byleth, we’re so far beyond ‘comfortable’.” Edelgard said, shaking, almost laughing. “The taller woman, the brunette with the pink dress.” Edelgard pointed to a woman in the painting. “Her name was Emma. She tackled me into a hug when she saw me, and she said she...she said she was ‘thankful at least one of her babies survived’.” Edelgard broke as those words left her mouth. Biting her lips and trying to hold back the tears that followed.

Byleth moved in, hugging Edelgard close in the middle of the hallway as she buried her face in Byleth’s tunic. Byleth was not the master of emotional support, by any means, but this was the type of thing she’d wanted to do when she had been dealing with pain of lost family, so why not give it a shot? Edelgard stood there sobbing for a long moment, thankful at least for her Professor’s tunic to muffle her voice if nothing else. 

After a while, she pulled away, taking a deep breath and doing her best to straighter herself out. She gestured toward the hallway, where the two knights escorting them had just rounded back around the corner, beckoning them to follow. Byleth and Edelgard walked silently over to them, and while Edelgard said not a word more about the portraits, she didn’t need to.

Byleth saw the story play out on its own. The next portrait, the tall brunette woman Edelgard mentioned had an empty, lifeless look in her eyes, and her smile just didn’t seem to reach them. Another woman clearly was intoxicated when the portrait was made, her entire body seeming limp and languid. The next portrait, and Emma was gone. Completely missing from the portrait along with the woman who had been drunk. However, now several other women shared that same sort of empty, hopeless stare or lax, inebriated posture. 

Over the next two portraits, all those women seemed to disappear as well. The last few women in the portrait seemed to share the same empty stare, and then the final portrait on the wall was almost empty except for Edelgard, who looked maybe a year younger than she was now, stood beside her father, who seemed as if in the course of a decade he had aged a millenia. The man who had smiled brightly, with a head full of brown hair down to his shoulders now stood as a broken old man, haunted with the same empty, hopeless eyes that had plagued the women he loved, his hair turned grey as ash. 

Byleth walked into the throne room of the Adrestian Empire feeling as if she had just watched a plague strike. A plague of hopelessness, of loss, of desperation for relief from a pain no one should have to face and yet so many did. 

Edelgard kneeded before the throne, where that same ashen grey Emperor sat, seeming to only barely hold himself up as he looked on his daughter with shame and love. Byleth followed the example, kneeling low and bowing her head. 

“Rise, my daughter, and whomever you may be.” The emperor said, gesturing weakly to Byleth. They stood and Edelgard hastened to introduce her company. 

“This is Byleth Eisner, daughter of Jeralt the Blade Breaker, and known on her own as the Ashen Demon.” Edelgard said, earning a nod from her father. Edelgard faltered a bit as she continued on. “She is a, well, she’s an acquaintance of mine from the Academy. She agreed to help me travel safely here and return to the Monastery when we were through.” The emperor nodded again, standing, barely, and offering a boney hand to Byleth. 

“Thank you for ensuring her safety, Lady Eisner. I am Emperor Ionius of house Hresvelg, however I quite doubt you needed to be told of that. It is wonderful to meet a classmate of my daughter’s.” Byleth took the hand, and her and Edelgard swapped a rather desperate look between themselves as Byleth wondered if it was better to leave it be or correct him. But, thankfully, Byleth didn’t have to chose as Ionius continued to speak. “So, Edelgard, can I assume your intentions for this hasty visit?” Edelgard nodded, standing tall as she spoke the next sentence with practiced precision. 

“Yes, father. I have come to claim my title as Emperor of Adrestia, and to take the burden of the crown from your shoulders.” Ionius sighed as he looked at his daughter, not displeased with her request, but almost ashamed. 

“It is a heavy burden indeed, my daughter. If you wish to take it, I will not stop you. You know I do not have long for this world. I have been on borrowed time, as they say, for longer than is likely my due, but if you are not certain, I will happily hold this crown to spare you that burden for however much longer I can.” Edelgard shook her head. 

“No. I will not allow you to suffer for my own comfort. We have faced this world together, with all it’s hardships, since everything began. Your time fighting is done, Father. I shall take you place, and use my reign to bring peace and freedom to our motherland, and all the people of Fodlan.” Ionius smiled and nodded again, coughing into his hand a bit before gesturing down at his feet. Edelgard knelt before him, and he slowly reached up, lifting the crown from his head. 

“Edelgard von Hresvelg, with this crown you take you position as Empress of the Adrestian Empire. By the red blood we bleed and the twice crowned eagle you now wear, you take the responsibility of all the people of this land as your own. I would ask if you are prepared to take that burden, but I know you are. Now rise, my daughter, and may all of Fodlan rise with you.” Edelgard stood slowly, as if the crown she wore were made of a ton of stone. Edelgard nodded a bit, feeling herself grow adjusted to its weight, and Ionius laid a hand on either side of her shoulders as he shook her just a bit, relief and pride filling his eyes as he looked toward his only remaining family. “I’m sorry that it is something you must bear, El, but I do hope you know I’m proud to have been able to see this day.” They stood there, not moving, and Byleth got the sneaking suspicion that they weren’t exactly practiced in familial affection. 

Byleth was pulled from that thought as the doors to the throne room slammed open, and a large fat man stumbled his way up the steps. He had short, thinning orange hair and a messy mustache, and the top of his head was so bald and shining it looked as if it might blind Byleth with the right angle in the light. 

“Your Majesty, what are you doing outside of your chambers, and standing no less!? You’re in no condition for company.” The man chided, walking to the former emperor and laying his hand on his shoulder just a bit too forcefully to be friendly. Right about then, he seemed to notice Edelgard. “Ah, good morning, your highness. While I understand you might be excited to see your father, he is in no condition-” 

“Silence, Sir Aegir.” Edelgard ordered. At the mention of his name, the man grew stern, and the room filled with the sound of skin tearing as Byleth’s gauntlets tore free from her hands. So this was Ferdinand’s father. 

“Excuse me, your highness. You may hold title, but you will still address me as Duke Aegir and with all the respect that demands.” The man said pointedly. 

“And you will address me with the title and respect I command. That of the Emperor.” This made the mans eyes go wide, and Byleth couldn’t help but notice a satisfied, almost vengeful look in Ionius’s expression. 

“Th...that’s not possible.” 

“It is in fact quite possible, and true.” Ionius noted. 

“And, as my first decree as emperor, you are stripped of all noble title and all rank within the Adrestian government. Effective immediately.” Edelgard gestured to two guards. “Take him away.” 

“Don’t you dare! This is illegal.” Aegir said, making the knights hesitate for a moment as they looked between the various members of the group. “Young lady, you highly overestimate your power as Empress if you think you can simply declare away your enemies at the slightest whim. I will be speaking to the rest of the heads of government to discuss how best to handle this blatant breach of-” Byleth smashed her bone-clad fist into the man’s jaw, sending him to the floor unconscious. Edelgard looked up at her, shocked. Byleth looked back at her, remaining silent as she straightened her posture, her gauntlets retracting back as she dusted off the front of her tunic. 

“Sorry. He annoyed me, and I let my temper get the better of me.” Byleth said, looking at Edelgard, who only chuckled and shook her head. It would be a lie to say it had not been satisfying to watch the blow occur. This drew a rather curious look from Ionius, who simply nodded quietly, seemingly reassessing the woman stood beside his daughter. 

“Take him to his chambers. He is not to be allowed out, or allowed any communication until I say as such.” Edelgard ordered, and this time the knights moved quickly to follow, making a wide berth around Byleth. 

They began almost immediately for their departure, preparing to leave as soon as they were finished with their resupply. Byleth was standing in the hallway yet again, staring at that woman, Emma, as she waited for Edelgard to return from some meeting with some military commander, Byleth in all honesty hadn’t really been paying attention when Edelgard said where she was going. 

“You certainly have quite a punch, Miss Eisner. It is impressive. ” Ionius said, walking up beside her, cane in hand as he looked to the portrait before her. He was leaning on the cane heavily as he stood there, his breath heavy and strained. 

“Thank you, sir.” Byleth said, looking at him briefly, noticing the wistful look of a man lost in memories as he looked upon happier days. “I… guess I should apologize for assaulting one of your cabinet members in the throne room.” Ionius politely nodded, tapping his cane on the ground a bit. 

“It is not my cabinet any longer, Miss Eisner. It is Edelgard’s. She seemed less than antagonistic to your little display, and so I shall hold no resentment.” Ionius looked back at Byleth, almost sizing her up like she had seen some men do before a fight. “Is there any particular reason you are staring at this painting?” 

“I suppose I am just thinking about something Edelgard told me, when we entered. What Emma said when she came back.” Ionius made a quiet ‘hmm’ sound, nodding at her remark as he turned back to the painting. 

“So she has...told you.” 

“Pieces, yes. I have not pried, but she told me enough.” Byleth said, eyes locking yet again with the empty, cold eyes of Emma. They looked eerily familiar. 

“I suppose that little outburst of yours does make a bit more sense, then. Knowing what he has been, let us say ‘privy to’ in the past.” Ionius took a deep breath, a putrid, hacking cough tearing out of him as he did so. He took a moment to right himself, taking a deep breath and looking back at Byleth. “So, you two are… classmates?” Ionius asked. Byleth shook her head. 

“No, sir. I’m her instructor at the Academy.” 

“An instructor, at your age?” 

“Age and experience are not the same thing.” Edelgard said, the intended message of that not lost on Ionius. He nodded, looking Byleth up and down again, seeming to take stock of her with a new eye. 

“How did you react when she told you what she had dealt with?” 

“I told her to quit being so damned stubborn and to let her comrades help her in her struggle, if she intended to carry it on. I offered her my assistance, if she would take it, in her fight. That is why I am here. She asked for assistance, and so I came.” Byleth said, as if it were as certain as remarking that the tide came in that day. Byleth could swear the slightest glint of a smile rose on Ionius’s dry, cracked lips. But he grew serious, almost somber, as he thought on his words. 

“My daughter is a strong woman, forged from harder steel than any blade and sharper as well. But, she also has a heart that bleeds easily, even for those she has never met. She trusts you, that much is clear. I doubt she would have told you otherwise, let alone bring you here. I will extend that same trust.” Ionius said. 

“Thank you, sir.” Byleth felt a bit of pride in hearing a former emperor express trust in her. 

“Do not take that as a kindness, Miss Eisner, but an act of necessity. I will confide in you, and bid you not to tell my daughter, but I’ve known I’m not long for this world for some time now. The best I have been told, I have a year and a half left to live, and quite frankly my life has consisted of such misery that I find it quite difficult to bemoan that reality. The one regret I hold is that I do not have the opportunity to be there to watch my daughter become the woman I know she can be. As such, I must hope that she can make the decisions necessary to ensure her own safety. That includes choosing good… companions, in her journey. If that includes you, so be it. But do not tread lightly into my daughter's life. Because however lightly you try to tread out of it, it will cause mayhem nevertheless. She has had enough heartache, I could not spare her that and I have no doubt the goddess will punish me dearly for that failure,among my many. But I will implore you to be certain of whatever path you choose.” Byleth felt her jaw clench tight enough that had she slid coal into her mouth she might spit diamonds.

“Lord Ionius, your daughter has stood beside me at my weakest moments, and given me strength when I thought I had none. I have no intentions other than to do the exact same for her.” Byleth said, firm and resolute. Something in that moment seemed to click behind her eyes. They stood there, looking at the portrait in silence, until finally Edelgard returned. 

They left not an hour later, wanting to make as much progress as they could before nightfall. Edelgard had left her crown in her chambers, and they rode away on Phlegon with a freshly restocked bag of supplies, including some for the prissy wyvern herself. Edelgard found that, even as she was flying on Phlegon, she still felt the weight of her crown. Not on her head, but on her heart. It weighed on her like a stone tower, ready to crush her in an instant. 

Perhaps it was not the crown that weighed on her, but her own understanding of what lay ahead of them when they returned. If her assessment of the winds and their schedule were right, than tonight was the last night she had where she could be certain that Byleth was her ally, her comrade, her Professor. The weight of Byleth’s arms around her stomach felt reassuring, but also almost mocking, taunting her with the pleasantries of a life she may condemn herself to never seeing in the name of the people. She would not be swayed from her path, the personal was subordinate, everything was, but it did not make it hurt any less. 

“Let’s not tell Ferdinand I clocked out his father.” Byleth said, a bit pensive as she watched the forests zoom by. Edelgard couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I suppose I can agree to that. Just don’t tell him I had his father put on house arrest either.” 

“Deal.” Byleth said, chuckling a bit as she lay her head back on Edelgard’s shoulder blade. 

They landed in a small clearing, no more than three hours from the school. Edelgard knew they would most likely push their luck and get there just after nightfall, but she wanted to make this trip last. Byleth didn’t seem to mind, as the sat in their mostly-unmade campsite around the fire, some rather preposterously high quality preserved meat cooking as they warmed their hands.

“So, how does it feel?” Byleth asked, looking over for her spot on the small log they shared. Edelgard looked a bit confused, so she clarified. “To finally be the emperor. To know that the crown waits for you there when this school year is done.” Edelegard sighed and toyed with her gloves. 

“I suppose it doesn’t feel like much. It was always going to happen. It wasn’t a choice, just a matter of time.” 

“Well, your father certainly seemed to be willing to extend that time as long as he could. So why now?” Byleth asked. “What made you decide now was the time?” Edelgard refused to match her eyes, to even look at her after that. Byleth figured her father must be a rather tender topic for her, and kicked herself for putting her boot in her mouth. 

“I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer.” Edelgard said, staring at the fire. She flipped one of the hunks of meat, letting it even out before she took it off. 

“I think I get what you mean.” Byleth said, a bit melancholic. “When you have something you’re avoiding, it just feels more and more dreadful the longer you let it wait.” 

“You seem to be speaking a bit too familiarly with the concept. Is there something you’ve been avoiding?” Byleth chuckled, her lips pulling up into a weak smile, her teeth barely visible, but even still Edelgard could see the scattered chips and absences among them. 

“Several. The more time I spend with you, the more I think perhaps that is foolish of me to do.” Byleth admitted. 

“What are they, if I might ask?” Edelgard was finally meeting her gaze again, and Byleth was thankful for that. She appreciated the way looking into Edelgard’s eyes made her world seem to make just a bit more sense, if only for a moment. 

“You may. The first one that pops to mind is my father.” Byleth swallowed down a lump in her throat. “I still have...yet to visit him, since our return from Remire. Nearly two months, and he’s sat there alone, excluding my mom of course.” 

“Oh…” 

“Cowardly, isnt it? To avoid the dead.” Byleth laughed at herself. 

“May I ask why?” 

“Why is it cowardly?” Byleth saw a rather unimpressed look on Edelgard’s face, and managed to piece the hints together. “Ah. Well, in a way, it was the same reason I told you to leave my classroom that night, why I avoided Catherine, tried to avoid you and keep away in heart those I couldn’t in body. I...I was afraid. Afraid that seeing him would strike that part of me I’d tried so hard to stamp down, and that I’d lose what control I thought I had.” Edelgard seemed to have a donning realization written on her face. 

“That… that is why you avoided us?” Byleth nodded. 

“Of course. You, my father, and Catherine are the only ones I’ve ever known to be able to strike at my heart in such a way. I knew I couldn’t keep up the walls I’d tried to make if I let myself be around you. Now, I know that I have allowed two of those three back into my life… I’m just dreading what will come when I visit the third.” 

“I suppose you do understand it, then. I felt...something similar, regarding my own father and my decision.” Edelgard said, trying not to let her heart fixate on those parts of what Byleth had said that it might read too much into. “To take it, almost feels as if I’m saying it’s just a matter of time before he is gone. It feels almost like a slap in the face to the only family I have left.” 

“I do think I can see the connection, but I think you’re too hard on yourself. Your father’s body is too old to bear that weight, that crown, Edelgard. You’re not doing anything but trying to make life easier on him by taking it.” Edelgard’s frown turned bitter at Byleth’s words. 

“‘His ‘body’ is far too young to be as broken as he is, his heart too.” She spat, not at Byleth, but seemingly at the world itself which had doomed her father to that fate. After a moment, Edelgard seemed to calm herself. “I’m sorry, Professor.” Edelgard mumbled. 

“Don’t be. I understand that anger.” Byleth said quietly. Edelgard pulled the meat from the fire, preparing it on a small plate. Byleth grabbed her segment off the plate, eating it with her hands. Edelgard laughed at the sight, making Byleth pause for just a moment before continuing on undisturbed. In a very ‘Byleth’ sort of manner, she swallowed a frankly rediculously large bite of the meat. After she had finished the bite and cleared her throat, she spoke again. “Would you be willing to accompany me to my father’s grave? I was thinking I might go once we’re finished with whatever it is the Archbishop wants me for tomorrow, and I would appreciate it if I had you there with me when I did.” 

Edelgard was dumbstruck, and the skip in her heartbeat was only matched by the pang of guilt that rang through her chest. Tomorrow, at the ceremony, her plans, her goals, her struggle, would all come to a head. There was no telling if by this time the next day there would be anything between the two of them but a pair of crossed weapons. But in her Professor’s eyes she saw nothing but the most vulnerable parts of her, begging for some small comfort that came as she was forced to confront the reality of a death resulting from all those same plans. 

How could she say no to that? How could she tell this woman who had gone from a loathed bother to someone Edlegard trusted nearly as much as Hubert, someone she considered a brother, that she would walk to her father's grave alone? But how could she make a promise she knew in all likelihood she’d never keep?

But, Edelgard thought, for just one night she could allow herself to fall into the lie that tomorrow, after the catacombs, everything would be just fine. She allowed herself the small mercy of a fantasy where she didn’t walk this earth like a ghost, knowing the Edelgard everyone she cared for, excluding Hubert, knew would be all but dead, replaced by the Flame Emperor. 

For just tonight, she could lie to herself and let herself believe that she might actually be able to be happy. She could lie to herself and believe that she even deserved a happy ending to begin with. 

“I would be honored.” Edelgard said. 

“Thank you, El.” Byleth said. Edelgard went still. 

“W...what did you call me?”

“Is something wrong?” Byleth shifted a bit, visibly concerned at the look Edelgard was giving her. “I...I heard your father calling you it earlier, I, I’m sorry if I said something wrong.” 

“No...no…” Edelgard said, looking down as she tried to collect her thoughts. That name had been so thoroughly stolen from her by that damned beast Kronya that hearing Byleth say it, hearing it and for once in so long and not utterly despising it was a shock to her. “I...That name is something I haven’t been called by anyone beside my father in, well, quite some time.” Edelgard chewed on her cheek as she looked into the fire. 

“Does it have something to do with...everything?” Byleth asked, clearly not sure how to or if she even should approach that topic. Edelgard nodded, almost visibly pulling into herself. 

“It was what my family called me. My brothers and sisters, my mother and my ‘mothers’. Father as well. ‘El’.” Edelgard said, toying with her gloves. Byleth leaned in and rested her hand on one of Edelgards, not quite sure if it was appropriate, but it felt right, at least. Edelgard squeezed the hand and took a deep breath. 

“Do you need to talk about it?” Edelgard shook her head no. 

“You already know that story. Now at least you have both parts. The experiments,my siblings, then my mothers. And now it won’t be long until it is just the dead and myself who know that name. Or, well, I suppose now you, the dead, and myself.” Edelgard noted, trailing her finger up and down Byleth’s knuckles one at a time.

“I can forget it, if you’d prefer. If that name needs to stay with the dead, I can and will respect that.” Edelgard shook her head no. Looking up at Byleth again and squeezing her hand so tight she worries she might break it. 

“No. Please. It… it’s nice to hear it from you. I suppose it will just take some getting used to.” 

“That’s ok… I understand.” Byleth said, rubbing her thumb along one of the seams in Edelgard’s silk gloves, her own bare hands having long since gone numb from the cold. 

“I know you do. I’m thankful for that.” 

“You don’t need to thank me.” Byleth said. 

“I will do it, nonetheless.” Edelgard replied, and in an instant she saw something shift in Byleth’s eyes, as if there were some great weight now weighing on her mind.

There was a long pause, and Byleth at one point had to turn away, staring at the flames as her mouth seemed to make the motions to say words under her breath Edelgard could not hear. 

“The answer is yes.” Edelgard looked over to her, confusion written like a map to nowhere across her face.

“W...What?” 

“You asked me a question last month in the goddess tower.” Byleth said under her breath, the weight of what she was about to say finally falling onto her shoulders. She laced her fingers through Edelgard’s as she took a deep breath and felt her lips pull up just a bit in the corners. “The answer I couldn’t give you then? It’s yes.” 

Edelgard felt her heart pound in her chest, and without even realizing she gripped Byleth’s hand tighter, only to feel the gesture returned. 

“I...Byleth...why now?” Edelgard asked, seeing the brawler look rather taken-aback. “I, please don’t misunderstand, I’m overjoyed. I just...why did you decide you were ready to say it now? If I could ask.” 

“I don’t really know.” Byleth said, scooting herself a bit closer and pulling Edelgard’s hand to her mouth, pressing her lips against the warm silk. “I think some of it is just, well, time. This past month has helped, to be able to figure out what is going on in my head just a bit more. You’ve been there for me at my absolute worst, and some of my happiest moments have been just the little things with you. I don’t...quite know how all this would work, but I know I want to try.” Byleth said, almost meekly as she realized just how utterly lost she was. But she was happy to at least be lost with Edelgard.

“I...I would like to try as well.” Edelgard said, pulling Byleth’s hand to her mouth and returning the gentle peck on the back of Byleth’s hand. At that moment, Phlegon, who had been quietly sleeping in the warmth of the fire, seemed to have something bother her nose, as a loud sound that could only be called a monstrous sneeze swept over the camp with so much power that the breath of it quite literal blew out the flames, leaving embers in the small circle of stones. That left the two others in the camp well aware of just how dark it had gotten. “I...I suppose we ought to get ready for sleep.” 

“I suppose so.” Byleth said, her hand not releasing Edelgard’s. “I’ll put out the flames, then I can take care of packing the rest of the camp if you can set our tent up.” Byleth remarked, going to stand up. Edelgard let go of her hand, missing the warmth almost instantly, and when Byleth finished dousing the embers with a canteen of river water, she turned to find Edelgard having not moved an inch. “Are you ok, Edelgard?” 

“I...would you mind helping me put up the tent, Byleth? I had a bit of trouble with it the past few nights.” Byleth looked at her, a bit confused, but she knew Edelgard wasn’t one to ask for help that wasn’t needed, so she didn’t hesitate to agree. 

The tent was pitched in almost unending silence as Edelgard slowly came to terms with what it was that she was about to do. She had given herself this one night to allow herself a small bit of joy, of fantasy in believing that the next day could end in her favor. She decided she might as well extend herself one more kindness, and allow herself to be foolish, if only for a moment. She could allow herself to be brave, allow herself to be happy. 

Tomorrow, the tie that bound Edelgard and Byleth could be severed, or, dare she hope, it could grow stronger still, but all Edelgard knew was that it was there tonight, and she was intent to cling to it for all she could, as long as she could, and as far as Byleth would like to.

“Well, I think that looks about right.” Byleth said as they finished pitching the tent. It was rather simple, and Edelgard knew that. She had known that when she asked, but she had bought time, and thankfully it had seemed to be enough. 

“Thank you, Byleth.” Edelgard said, rubbing the palm of her hand with the thumb of the other. She stood in front of the entrance to the tent, with byleth before her, the difference in their height rather obvious even in the dark. 

“Of course.” Byleth said, thumbs hooked into her belt. “I think I’ll go and start first watch if -” Byleth wasn’t able to finish her sentence as Edelgard closed the gap between them in an instant, grabbing Byleth by the fabric of her tunic and pulling her down with such a force that Byleth was knocked onto one of her knees. She felt a familiar pair of lips slam against her own, and once the shock of it had passed, she returned the kiss. 

Edelgard’s hands loosened on her shirt, one of them trailing the way up to cup her cheek, while the other simply rested on her shoulder. Byleth found the feeling of the silk against her skin so strange, used to either skin or rough leather. Edelgard’s gloves felt soft, and Byleth found herself resting her head in the touch. Edelgard’s thumb traced along her cheekbone, and Byleth wasn’t quite sure when she’d balled her fists in the fabric of Edelgard’s jacket, but she most certainly didn’t let go. 

The two pulled apart, gasping for air. Edelgard’s hand stayed on Byleth’s cheek, her fingers hooked on the bottom of her jaw, holding her there almost as well as Byleth’s grip on her jacket held Edelgard in place. Both seemed a bit more than terrified to let go of the other, and given how often things seemed to go wrong for them, it made a strange sort of sense. 

“El…” Byleth muttered weakly, having forgotten how exactly words work. 

“I...forgive my forwardness, Byleth, but would you like to share my bedroll, tonight?” Byleth was still trying to parse out ‘speaking’ at the moment, but her nod ‘yes’ was more than enthusiastic. Thankfully, the two had the forethought to actually remove their boots before entering the tent, although that had made for a rather awkward drawn out moment as they did so. 

Byleth fell back into the tent and almost immediately Edelgard was upon her, sat atop her lap, hands back at her collar, gripping her as if afraid she might vanish into dust were she to let go, but Byleth had no intention of going anywhere. Her fingers found themselves lacing their way through Edelgard’s hair, the thin strands felt like spun silver around her hands as they both pulled each other back into another kiss. 

Byleth’s lips parted just a fraction and she felt Edelgard’s teeth pinch and pull at her bottom lip, hungrily pressing back into another kiss as she let it free. Byleth yet again felt a soft silk pressing against her cheek, the touch almost as gentle as the fabric as she pressed herself into it. She went to pull her hands from Edelgard’s hair, although it seemed she’d gottern her fingers rather well interwoven in the silver locks. 

When she went to move her hands, this drew a rather startled gasp of pain from Edelgard, and in a flash, Byleth’s wrists were both pinned to the ground beneath her. She saw edelgard’s eyes, for just a second, flash from hungry to almost hazy, as if being clouded by ghosts. But in an instant more they had returned to that same hunger, if a bit faded. 

“I...I’m sorry. Do we need to stop?” Edelgard shook her head. 

Those bastards had taken so much from her, she would not let them take this. If she was to be damned, let her have this one taste of what might have been. 

“No, not unless you need to.” Byleth shook her head no as well. “Good… Just be careful.” Byleth nodded, gnawing on her lip as she looked into those hungry lilac eyes and felt a bit bolder at the way they were already seeming to devour her. 

“It might just be better to tell me what to do.” Byleth’s offer extended a hand that Edelgard took happily, however not without a bit of fun. With her grip still around either of byleth’s wrists, she leaned down slowly, her voice a low whisper. 

“Do you think you could actually do as you’re told for once?” Byleth bit her lip, nodding almost desperately. “Good girl.” Oh, the soft moan that one phrase pulled from Byleth lit the fire burning in Edelgard anew and three times as bright. 

Edelgard’s fingers moved from Byleth’s wrists to her jacket, hurriedly undoing the remnants of her armor, practically tearing a few of the straps holding the steel in place, throwing them aside until she saw nothing but the coat and tunic. Her hands were timid when she had started with the armor, unsure and unpracticed, but there is a surprising confidence in knowing this is your one chance, and by the time Edelgard’s fingers began lithely playing at the ties holding Byleth’s tunic she was beyond letting her nerves get the better of her. She did however hesitate as she realized she hadn’t asked about undoing the garment. She looked up, and saw a reassuring nod from byleth, before continuing on and quickly hefting byleth up off the ground just enough to pull it off and throw it aside. Byleth stayed up just long enough to pull her undershirt off as well, tossing it...somewhere, and flopping back onto the ground.

Edelgard felt her breath hitch as she saw Byleth’s chest on full display. Were she not feeling it absolutely pounding against her sternum she might’ve thought her heart had stopped at the sight of Byleth’s heaving breath setting her rather absurdly heavy chest moving in a way that could not be called anything other than hypnotizing. Once she had finally snapped from her trance, however, a rather devious smirk crossed Edelgard’s lips as her hands moved back to Byleth’s wrists. 

“I don’t remember telling you to take that off just yet…” That drew a nervous smile from the woman pinned beneath her, and when Edelgard leaned down, biting the woman’s neck where she had seen bite marks a few too many times, the gasp and moan it drew from her showed Edelgard exactly why. 

Edelgard undid her jacket as she continued to tease that spot, right at the edge of byleth’s clavicle, and quickly enough the jacket was gone. The cool air felt good. She didn’t realize how much she’d been sweating. She stopped there, her fingers hesitating between her shirt and Byleth’s wrists. 

She knew her fear was ridiculous, especially given how much of Byleth was now exposed, and how much of her own history she had told her. But still, knowing scars were there was different than seeing them, seeing the extent of them. 

Byleth’s hands resting on her own startled her from her thoughts, and she wondered how long she’d been stuck there. The seafoam green eyes looking back at her, hints of that cobalt still remaining in small flecks and a few larger splotches, offered her an out she knew she had had the whole time. ‘Say the word, and we will stop’. 

But she took it at the same time as a kind of soft reassurance, and with it she heaved a heavy sigh and grit her teeth against her own insecurity, pulling the top button of her blouse open and then quickly lifting the shirt up over her head, tossing it aside quickly doing away with the red bra underneath. Edelgard held her eyes shut for a moment, steeling herself before looking down at Byleth, seeing nothing in the woman’s eyes but utter and absolute dumbstruck admiration. 

Edelgard’s skin was laced up and down with precise, surgical scarring, occasionally interrupted with the jagged pattern of remnants from a more brutal test. Her chest was marked with a massive Y-shaped scar from the hundred times her entire abdomen was opened. Byleth found her finger slowly tracing up the middle column of that scar, starting just below her belly button. Edelgard chewed her cheek at the touch, but took the time to look and examine her partner’s scars as well. 

Byleth’s arms were laced with a weave of faded marks that would charitably be called numerous. The higher up her arms, the more sporadic they became, transitioning from blade wounds to arrow and lance marks. But at the center of her chest, right over her sternum, was a massive, jagged scar that seemed far more faded than the rest, and Edelgard let her own fingers trace the edge of that scar. Eventually moving over to the side, lightly tracing around the edges of Byleth’s areola, drawing a few shuddered breaths and a sharp inhale for her Professor as her fingers wrapped themselves around byleth’s nipple, quickly moving from rubbing, to pinching, and in a moment of reckless abandon, licking. 

That drew an especially loud moan from Byleth, who, on instinct, wrapped her hand in Edelgard’s hair only for the woman to pin the limb back down, a stern but teasing glare coming up from her spot, lips pressed to byleth’s breast. She quickly moved her mouth to the other breast, drawing another chorus of strangled moans from the woman beneath her, as well as a rather desperate grinding, as Byleth tried to lift her hips, pressing them against Edelgard’s rear end. That gave her the boost of confidence she needed as she leaned down, brushing Byleth’s ear with her tongue before giving another order. 

“Undress. Fully.” Her order was followed to the letter, as Edelgard did the same, however awkward it was for them both to be stripping in a tent made barely big enough for two to sleep in. But, a few moments later Edelgard found herself taking a position over Byleth’s head not too dissimilar to the position she took on Phlegon’s saddle, facing down toward the rest of Byleth’s body as her hands rested on her partner’s wrists. “If I say stop, do. Understood?” Byleth gave a ‘yes’ in confirmation. “Ok. Now, show me what exactly that stubborn tongue of yours can do.” 

Edelgard found herself clutching Byleth’s wrists like a sort of security measure as she adjusted to the feeling of a tongue between her legs. The first brush was a bit too much, and she made byleth stop for a moment before continuing on, but after a while she was enjoying the new sensation, even adjusting herself a bit to press harder into Byleth’s tongue as the motions grew a bit more coherent, targeted at the spots Byleth found brought the most pleasant sounds, at least the most pleasant sounds she could hear through the rather pleasant cushioning pressed against her ears. 

After some time, Edelgard found herself feeling just bold enough to try something herself. She leaned down, feeling a bit awkward as her chest pressed into Byleth’s stomach, but ignoring it as she moved her head between Byleth’s legs. If the noises she heard from the woman between her legs were any indication, she seemed to pick up that lesson rather quickly. She found a bit of trouble, as her tongue grew tired rather quickly, but she managed to push on through the soreness, feeling Byleth’s legs clamp around her head as she felt a building pressure within herself growing stronger and stronger by the second. 

When they both finally overcame that peak, Edelgard with a loud moan, Byleth with a muffled gasp, the two of them quickly seemed to realize exactly how cold they were in the tent once the ‘physical activity’ had ended. Neither wanted Byleth to leave, and so the two found themselves soon enough tucked away in Edelgard’s bedroll, Edelgard rather awkwardly laying with her arm around Byleth’s midsection, not unlike how Byleth had held her while they flew.

Neither of them were very talkative as they fell asleep, they didn’t need to be. Edelgard felt Byleth’s hand interlace with hers, and she was able to drift off to sleep, for once, warm with the knowledge that she wouldn’t wake up alone were she to have a night haunted with the past. She didn’t know what the future held for her, but that was a problem for the next day. For now, she had the woman she cared for in her arms, and she could let herself believe that tomorrow night she was certain she’d be able to fall asleep just like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCKING HELL< I CAN”T BELIEVE THAT IT FINALLY HAPPENED< THEY FINALLY BONED. 
> 
> For real tho, Jesus shit I am astounded it took this long to get to this point, but at the same time I’m absolutely floored that I’ve made it this far. We’re actually hitting the war, which is like bonkers. 
> 
> I am gonna say, I know El kinda seemed a bit experienced in bed, but I just really didn’t feel comfortable writing her to be the like, awkward shy virgin cus I felt iffy enough writing them fucking at this part in the story, so I just went with what I thought made the most sense. She’s a fuckin Emperor, she knows how to give orders. 
> 
> I am hella excited for next weeks update, but yall I’m going to warn you, this shit is gonna hit some fucking ANGST for like, several weeks, but I promise it’ll be worth it. 
> 
> Shit fuck, thanks to everyone who comments regularly on this story, yall make my fucking day when I see the notifications. Hit me with your theories for what you think is going to happen next, predictions, or just the parts that you loved and or the things that make you think I’m satan. Have a good week, take care of yourselves, peace.


	22. Chapter 22: No Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Flame Emperor reveals herself, the Ashen Demon returns, Thunder Catherine is broken, and the drums of war ring begin to signal the start of the end of Fodlan as we know it. 
> 
> “ The battle line’s drawn, All hope forlorn, Prepare your souls there’s no happy ending in sight for us.” - The Mechanisms, “No Happy Ending”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Y’all, holy shit, 7000 views?! I’m still utterly astounded people enjoy this super self-indulgent fic, and I’m so thankful for all of yall! I hope you enjoy this weeks chapter, as it’s one I’ve been just ITCHING to get out since I wrote it, and I’m beyond overjoyed to see this story hitting it’s stride. I wish you all a very happy week!
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage
> 
> I'll give my usual plug to The Unqualified 1 (She's anything but) https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1

Catherine marched her way, sore, bloody and coated in muck through the gates of Garreg Mach with both of her men in tow. They had finally finished their shift on poacher tracking, and she could not wait to rest and relax in her own damned bed after a nice bath. She was so caked in dirt, mud, and blood that she thought her hair looked closer to Dorothea’s brown locks than her own blonde.

“Boys.” Catherine said, wrapping her arms around both of their necks and pulling them close. “I think a round of drinks are in order for us tonight. On me.” 

“Holy hell, who are you and what did you do with that cheap bitch Catherine?” Fredrique asked, getting a slap in the back of the head for the smartass remark before Catherine let them both go. 

“What can I say, I’m glad to be home.” Joseph gave her a knowing smile, marching with his warhammer held like a walking stick. 

“I figured you would want to go and spend the first night back with that nice professor. Worried you might be in the doghouse for something?” Joseph asked, earning a glare. “Oh don’t give me that shitty look, kiddo. I can still kick your ass to the moon and back, even in my old age.” Joe reached forward, tussling Catherine’s hair, realizing a minute too late that that might not have been the best idea. None of them were ‘clean’ but Catherine was absolutely filthy.

“Oh fuck off, Joe. I ain’t your damn dog, so don’t go and pet me.” Catherine said, but even under all that dirt she couldn’t hide her grin. “Do you boys want the free liquor or not?” 

“Oh I’m not gonna say no to an offer like that.” Fredrique said, stretching his arms into the air as he let out a long yawn, only to be cut short by a swift punch to the gut from Catherine. “Oh you bitch!” The archer choked out, chasing the woman as she nimbly dodged out of his grasp. 

“Joe, get your fucking husband away from me!” Catherine said, laughing as she dodged around the massive man to avoid the furious twink chasing her. 

“Not my pig, not my farm, not my problem Catherine.” Joseph muttered, chuckling as he watched the two scramble around. Where the hell had all that energy been earlier when he’d had to break down the camp almost entirely alone, he wondered.

They made their way to the stables, dropping off some of the equipment they had been allocated for their shift. Exhausted, they moved to head to the bathhouse, not even thinking to give their report before cleaning off, but Catherine found herself distracted from that journey by quite a sight. Tucked away in a corner of the stable’s reserved for wyverns and other flying mounts that Catherine was sure they thought was well-blocked from view, she saw a very tired looking Byleth and Edelgard, laying against each other, their backs pressed to Phlegon. Byleth’s arm was draped over Edelgard’s shoulder, as the two almost seemed to be alternating between dozing and talking. 

Catherine pressed a finger to her lips, silencing the comment Fredrique was certainly already preparing as she ducked out of eyesight, peeking around a column as she noticed the two talking about something she couldn’t quite hear. However, when they finished talking, Catherine saw Byleth press her lips softly against Edelgard’s forehead, and Catherine felt her face stretch into a grin. She gestured for the other two to give her just a minute as she strolled around the column, right up to the duo with a rather congratulatory smile on her face.

“Well well well, long time no see, girls.” Catherine said, seeing both women startle and face her, annoyance clear in Edelgard’s eyes. “Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” Catherine asked, her tone making it obvious she knew the answer. 

“In fact, you are.” Edelgard said, standing as Byleth did the same. However while Edelgard crossed her arms, Byleth practically tackled Catherine in a hug. Catherine wrapped her arms around Byleth’s waist, lifting her up and spinning her off the ground, almost tripping over herself. 

“Hey baby, missed you too.” Catherine whispered to Byleth, setting her back down and shooting Edelgard a grin. “I’m glad you two actually got everything figured out before graduation.” She said, brushing some dirt off of Byleth’s tunic where it had rubbed off of her armor. 

“Oh, you be quiet.” Edelgard muttered, annoyed but aware that Catherine wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever Princess.” Catherine replied, certain that if she was in striking range she’d have gotten slapped so hard the dirt would’ve been knocked clean off of her. She turned to Byleth. “What’s the plan for today? You all have a mission don’t you?” Byleth nodded. 

“Yes, the Archbishop told us to meet her in the classroom, and then she will guide us to the entrance to the Catacombs in about three hours. We’re going to gather the class in just a bit.” 

“Oh! Perfect. Let me go get this shit cleaned off me, and I’ll join you after I give my report.” 

“Are you sure? You seem rather tired.” Edelgard asked, a strange tension in her voice. 

“Oh, I’m fine Princess. I’m not an old lady just yet.” Catherine said, waving the concern off. Byleth felt herself getting wrapped up in yet another hug, hearing one of two of her vertebrae popping before being set back down. Catherine walked over and patted Edelgardl on the shoulder. “Good for you, Princess.” Edelgard gave her a tired smile, and Catherine leaned down, just a bit to whisper. “Also, be careful with your biting. It’s smart to make sure you don’t leave marks where they’re visible. ” That time Catherine had to dodge out of the way of the swing aimed at her head, laughing like a maniac as she gathered men. “I’ll see you all there!”

Goddess, It was good to be home. 

Later that day, The Black Eagles were gathered up as they waited for the beginning of their next mission. Catherine was sat on one of the desks at the front of the class, facing the back while Ashe sat on the bench in front of her, a mirror in hand as she watched Catherine walk her through the steps of braiding her hair back. The grey strands had grown rather long over the course of the past few months, and she found it bothersome when she was trying to shoot her bow, which Leonie had been oh so kind as to help her train in during their lengthy break. Petra and Dorothea both stood up against a desk on one side of Ashe, while Leonie was sat a little ways over to the other. 

“Ok, now watch, kiddo, you gotta take two of your parts, and weave the third through like this, but don’t loop it around like this, cus you’ll just tangle your hair up in a giant knot.” Catherine explained, gesturing throughout the instructions with the three chunks she’d made out of Ashe’s hair. 

“It looks like that’s all you’re going to do with it anyway.” Petra teased, receiving a small snicker from Dorothea. 

“Oh shut it, Petra. We can’t all be master Brigin braiders. It’s messy, but it gets the job done.” Catherine shot back, pointing with one of the strands of hair in her hand, earning an ‘ow’ from the young woman it was attached too. “Shit, sorry Ashe.” 

“It’s ok.” she replied, chuckling a bit, a brimming smile on her face as she saw her hair slowly weaving into something resembling order. 

“Why not just put it into a ponytail?” Leonie asked. “All that weaving seems like so much effort.

“Well, as much as this might shock you, Leonie, some girls actually like to look pretty.” Dorothea teased, and Leonie, in her ever-mature manner, stuck her tongue out at the opera singer. 

“Hey, Leonie is pretty!” Ashe said, a bit too loudly in her defense. Only to realize a moment to late how that might sound. Catherine lost it laughing, almost sending the desk she was sat on tipping over as Ashe tried to come up with an excuse for what she had said. Leonie was beet red. 

“Hubert, I need to speak with you.” Byleth said, walking up to where the young man was stood, Ferdinand, Bernadetta, and Edelgard stood around him as they chatted, or rather while the other three chatted and Hubert made the occasional vague noise. He seemed distracted, and Byleth figured she knew why. “Alone, if that would be ok.” 

“Professor, I don’t know if that’s quite smart given how long is left until we are to leave.” Ferdinand said. “Whatever he’s done, I’m sure it can wait until after.” 

“I’ve done nothing, Ferdinand.” Hubert said glibly, Ferdinand’s eyes showed a lack of belief. “At the least, nothing she can prove.” That, Ferdinand believed much more, even if he did not quite realize the extent to which Hubert was not, in fact, joking. “I can spare a moment, Professor.” They walked into the late morning sun, wandering southward. Through the halls of the administrative building, and to the library, empty as it has been often over the recent months. Byleth leaned against one of the tables, looking at Hubert. 

“Why have you brought me here, Professor?” Hubert was beyond tense, and very annoyed. 

“I figured a quiet, dark library away from all the others might be a bit more comfortable for you. It seems like your type of place, even if I’m sure the ‘poison and torture’ segment is not as robust as you’d like.” Byleth said, earning a look that made Byleth almost believe he was smiling. “I...I thought I ought to talk to you, and figured here might make it a bit more comfortable than talking to you in the classroom.” Hubert seemed to understand that. 

“Well then speak.” 

“I can assume you have spoken to Edelgard today.” Byleth said, earning a nod. 

“Extensively.” Byleth’s arms were crossed in front of her, in contrast to Hubert’s which were behind him, one hand gripped in the other. 

“Well, I thought better to talk to you now then risk you finding out about it later and feel as if I had hidden it from you.” Byleth said, earning a pair of raised eyebrows from Hubert. “Edelgard and I have found that there are… feelings between us that we both share, or however the hell you want to put it.” Byleth said, and by the look on Hubert’s face, Byleth could guess that Edelgard hadn’t told him, but he was not shocked. 

“Why are you telling me this, Professor? Lady Edelgard’s business is her own.” 

“We both know that’s not entirely true, Hubert. At least not regarding things like this. I’m not the most intelligent woman, or the most skilled with reading people’s emotions…” 

“Nor with personal hygiene, basic etiquette, common courtesy-” Hubert interjected. 

“Yes, yes, thank you, Hubert.” At this, the young man actually cracked a self-satisfied smile. “But, what I was going to say, is that it doesn’t take a master detective to see that you’re family to Edelgard, even if not by blood.” Byleth saw actual, genuine shock cross Hubert’s face, and figured that meant she was doing a good job. “I know how much family means to Edelgard, and I know how much she means to you, no matter how well you try to hide it. So, I thought that if I intended to actually do something right.” 

“For once.” Hubert cut in. 

“...For once. I would start with talking to you, and trying to at least have some kind of understanding so that I don’t have to worry about poison in my dinner for the rest of the year.” Hubert looked away at that as he realized that there wasn’t going to be a ‘rest of the year’. Byleth stepped forward, resting a hand on his shoulder, startling the young man from his thoughts. "I know things are a bit weird, given what exactly our um...professional situation is, and my relationship with Catherine, but please know, I don’t wish anything but the best for her. I want to do my best to make her happy, keep her safe, and see her goals through. I don't blame you for having been suspicious of me, or continuing to be, but I hope someday I can earn your trust as I have hers. Because you're a good man, Hubert, and the world could use more of those. I would rather they not be scheming to put arsenic in my trail rations." 

Hubert was dumbstruck. The part of himself that had kept him alive all these years warned that this had to be some kind of trick, some way to lull him into letting his guard down so that she could strike, but yet, there was a much larger piece of him that realized there was no deception here. No ulterior motive, no deceit. She saw him as a part of Lady Edelgard’s family, and wanted him to...to like her? To trust her? Could anyone really be so simple?

If anyone could be, Hubert mused, it would certainly be this woman. 

He thought back to the men readying their attack right this very moment, for the weapons he had smuggled them over the past week, of the base a few meager miles away where those men sat, a small team already on their way. He knew that in all likelihood, this was not going to end well, but for her sake, he hoped it did. 

“...Professor, if you truly, sincerely intend to help Lady Edelgard with her goals, then I can assure you, you will have nothing but my utmost respect.” Hubert said, the words flowing easily but tasting more bitter than they should. He was too versed in lying for it to displease him this much. 

“I’m glad, then.” Byleth said, resting her arm over his shoulder as she walked them out. “Then let’s get back to the others. The Archbishop will likely be retrieving us soon.” 

“So, I had a rather interesting conversation with Byleth.” Hubert said some time later as they wandered away from the pack of students as they were guided to the entrance of the Catacombs. No one seemed to notice they’d left, which had rather been the point of it all. They marched out to where their small encampment of troops were waiting. 

“Yes. I saw that. Is there something you wish to say, Hubert?” Edelgard asked, cautious as they entered the camp, and then the tent set aside for them to prepare. 

“She informed me that you two have decided to pursue something romantic.” Edelgard looked at him, confused. “She said that, ahem, she wanted to assure me her intentions were good, and she wanted to ensure your goals were met. Which, considering she was saying this in the library, I assume means she does not know exactly what those goals are, along with your other secrets.” 

“No. I didn’t.” Edelgard said, heaving a deep breath and chewing on her lip. She began undoing her uniform, preparing her Flame Emperor attire. 

“Lady Edelgard, do you believe it would be-” 

“Hubert, I am uninterested in your perspective on my romantic life at a time like this. I said nothing about the fact your pants look like they’ve been worn two days in a row, nor how your undershirt looks a size too large, or about how you reek of Ferdinand’s perfume. So do not for a single moment, standthere and lecture me.” Hubert held up his hands defensively, his eyes asking to speak. The request was granted with a nod. 

“Edelgard, I intended no lecture. You are correct, I am not innocent of… less than sensible decisions, and I hold no ill judgment of you. What I was going to say was ‘do you believe it would be best if you wore the mask’.” Hubert clarified, pointing to the sole remaining item in the chest that held her armor, the large red and white porcelain face of the Flame Emperor. She shook her head. 

“No. I have lied to her too much already, from my own cowardice. I will not do it again. Today, I find if she stands beside me, or if I face her as an opponent. Anything else is simply delaying the inevitable.” 

“Are you prepared to kill her, if that is what must happen?” Hubert asked. Edelgard nodded again. 

“The personal is subordinate. Everything is.” She repeated. 

“Lady Edelgard.” A woman’s voice adressed, entering the tent. It was a tall brunette with straight hair that ran down past her shoulders, her armor adorned in dragon's wings marking her as part of the Adrestian Honor Guard, a combat unit devoted to protecting her and other ranking Empire nobles while in battle. “Our men are ready to move out.” 

“Good. Thank you, Ladislava. Retrieve Randolph, and let’s begin the briefing.” Ladislava nodded, leaving and returning a short while later with a tall man wearing large, bulky crimson armor and with a head of short chestnut brown hair. Edelgard laid out the various maps and plans, and began to explain the mission. “The Black Eagles, as well as the Archbishop and three members of the Knights of Seiros, a commander and two underlings, have entered the Catacombs intent to reach the segment dubbed ‘The Throne of the Goddess’. According to what our spies have been able to gather, she thinks the recent transformation of Byl...Professor Eisner indicates some sort of divine intervention, and hopes sitting her atop that throne will lead her to some sort of vision or transformation.” Randolph made a quiet ‘hmm’. 

“What the hell kind of ‘transformation’ could she be hoping for? I mean we’re talking about a mercenary and a school teacher.” Edelgard looked to Hubert, who simply shook his head no, clearing his throat and speaking. 

“We have no idea. Many of our spies say they’ve heard almost nothing from the Archbishop. The only thing we’ve heard is a single report that a spy overheard her screaming in an argument with Seteth early on in the month after Professor Eisner’s transformation.” Randolph nodded, stroking his chin. 

“A fight among the Archbishop and her right hand man? Is there anything we can use there? Fracture Rhea’s support internally and create havoc among the ranks?” Hubert shook his head again.

“Not as far as we are able to parse. All the woman was able to overhear was Rhea screaming some nonsense about keeping a ‘feral bitch’ away from ‘defiling’ her mother. It was utter nonsense.” Randolph nodded, and Edelgard continued on. 

“We’ll be sending our troops in through a tunnel in the base of the old chapel where a horde of crest beasts were released from last month. Once our group has retrieved the stones, we will assess the situation. If we’re winning, we’ll lead the charge and attempt to defeat the Archbishop. Cutting off the head of the snake before the body even realizes we’re a threat. If not, we return here, recuperate, and attack the next morning. Understood?” All three others in attendance nodded. “Good. We depart in five minutes. 

“Lady Edelgard, are you certain you intend to lead this mission personally?” Ladislava asked, concern evident in her voice. Edelgard nodded, and the Honor Guard did not protest. She was protective, but she knew and respected the chain of command. 

“Ladislava. I have need of you for a moment, a special order to distribute among the men.” Edelgard stated plainly. Ladislava paused, closing the flap to the tent she had just been about to step through and returning to the table. 

Byleth stood at the base of a staircase that led up to a grand stone throne that looked overwhelmingly familiar. It was the one she had seen Sothis laying atop, the first night they had met, the one Byleth had leaned against while the headaches from Sothis's attempts at remembering drove a spike into her mind. That felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Take the throne, Byleth, and let the goddess speak through you.” Rhea cooed from beside her. Byleth moved up the steps, her boots on the stone causing a loud clanging echo with each step, as the chamber around her was almost incomprehensible in it’s size. She thought one might be able to store entire oceans in this without ever reaching the limit, and the walls were all intricately carved with symbols, portraits, and other grand designs. Byleth moved to sit on the throne, resting her arms on either armrest, and found it to be absolutely excruciatingly uncomfortable. How in the hell Sothis could sit on this for such long periods gave Byleth an astounding level of respect for her departed friend. Then again Sothis could float, so perhaps she had just been acting dramatic for the sake of it. 

As Byleth felt her anticipation fizzle into nothingness, she let time tick by, several minutes later she stood and walked toward the stairs again, seeing a confused and almost enraged look across the Archbishop’s face as she climbed back down. There was a burning in her chest, and the look in Rhea’s eyes was one of bloodlust. 

Byleth’s steps, and Rhea’s investigations, were stalled for a moment however as the doors to the main entrance of the chamber were thrown open, and through them began to pour droves of massive, armor-clad fighters, all of them bearing a strikingly familiar symbol, the Eagle of house Hresvelg. 

As the troops finished their entrance, lining the walkway that began after the entrance, three figures marched in, taking a position at the head of the charge. Stood in the very center, their face covered in the dark shadows of the cavern, was the unmistakable armor of the Flame Emperor. The gauntlets in Byleth’s arms tore loose from her skin without a thought, glistening white bone beginning to glow the faintest orange. 

Catherine followed Byleth’s eyes, however it took her a moment to realize that what she was seeing was the armor Byleth had described to her so many times. She pulled Thunderbrand from her back, the blade glowing like the sun above as Byleth took a position beside her, an almost monstrous snarl morphing her beautiful face into that of a demon, hungry for blood. 

“Classmates, comrades, I know the sight before you may shock you, but I ask you to not interfere.” An all too familiar voice rang through the halls, coming from the very figure they all were staring down. Byleth’s eyes went wide, and Catherine’s jaw literally dropped as slowly the three figures moved, their faces shifting into the light, and the class reacted with everything from gasps to weak cries as they saw Edelgard adorned in the armor of the Flame Emperor, axe in hand, a warped, twisted thing made of what appeared to be melted bone. Hubert stood beside her, a tightlipped, unwavering expression drawn across his face as dark energy was already swirling around his gloved fingers. “I, as leader of the Adrestian Empire, am henceforth declaring the Church of Seiros disbanded, and an enemy of the people of Fodlan. Any who ally with her will be seen as equally such. I know, to you all this may seem sudden, and callous, but I ask that you lend me your ears and-” As Edelgard spoke, several large tombs that had been ignored up to that point began to be ripped open by the various armed men that had entered beside their classmates, all of whom were too stunned to act. However, Edelgard found herself interrupted by a furious Archbishop. 

“Do not listen to a word this monster says! Stop her at once, and put an end to this heathenous foolishness! This is a crime against the goddess, you petulant child!” 

“No, you vile snake, this is a declaration of war.” Edelgard corrected, her own relic beginning to glow as she grit her teeth. “Comrades, I beg of you, do not interfere. You needn’t aid me, but please do not interfere.” 

“Stop her, now, Professor!” Rhea ordered. 

“Byleth, please, stand aside.” Edelgard asked, a small crack in her voice. 

The entire class turned to Byleth, as if as one collective body seeking her guidance on this decision. Byleth, in all her utter lack of wisdom, chose to do something instead of the right thing. 

“Damnit! Ferdinand, Catherine, with me! Everyone else, stop those men, collect whatever it is they’re gathering, and await further orders!” She barked at them. They quickly followed their orders and moved to intervene. This seemed to draw a disheartened frown from Edelgard, and Byleth, along with her two companions, moved toward the three figures that stood in the distance. 

Ashe ran haphazardly through the quickly ensuing maelstrom of battle that formed around her, thankful her hair at the very least wasn't in her damned eyes as she flung herself out of the path of an approaching lance. She rolled, a bit sloppily, over her shoulder and managed to pop up onto her feet, swinging her own weapon around and gouging out a heavy chunk of muscle from the attacker, a gangly, skinny knight with not much in the way of height. His weapon dropped, his arm going limp. Ashe hesitated from killing him, instead taking the but of her axe and smashing it into the side of his head, sending him to the ground, unconscious, if bleeding heavily. 

“Move it!” Someone ordered to her, and Ashe found herself diving yet again out of the path of another lance, this one however belonged to a tall, orange-haired woman on horseback who moved past Ashe and buried her lance tip into the chest of an approaching mage who had apparently been aiming at Ashe’s back. Leonie circled her horse around, smiling over to Ashe and offering her hand as she pranced her mount right up to her. “Always a bit clumsy on your feet, aren’t you babygirl? Maybe you’ve been spending a bit too much time on that lizard of yours.” Ashe smiled, rolling her eyes and trying not to blush as she reached up, taking the hand and being lifted rather easily up onto the back of Leonie’s saddle. She replaced her axe with the bow that was slung over her shoulder. 

“Hey, if I’d anticipated the caverns being this big and brought her, that ‘lizard’ would be quite the help right about now.” Ashe retorted, firing a shot off at a nearby Empire soldier, only to miss and nearly hit Dorothea. 

“Hey, watch it!” Bernadetta screamed, angrily. 

“Sorry!!” Ashe began putting the bow back on her arm and re-drawing her axe. She was still pretty new with that. 

“Just don’t kill any of our friends, sweetheart. It seems like we have few of those as is.” Leonie teased, prodding her horse forward and sending the two of them off to the next group. 

Dorothea, once she’d dodged out of the way of one of her own classmates arrows, lobbed a heavy blast of pulsating energy out of one hand, watching it warp the air around it as it crashed into the chest of a charging axe wielder, whose entire chest cavity seemed to cave in on itself in that instant. 

She turned to find Bernadetta and Petra, stood back to back as several men of various armaments surrounded them, each one charging only to drop after a step, two if they were lucky. 

“Six oclock!” Bernadetta shouted, dropping into a low crouch, pulling an arrow from her own quiver as Petra flipped around in an instant, an arrow being let loose and piercing a hole clean through the throat of an overly confident knight. 

“Three oclock.” Petra said, pulling out an arrow herself as Bernadetta knocked the one she’d drawn and quickly popped up, the brawler Petra had been indicating falling dead before he could even realize they’d been meaning him. 

“Eight!” Dorothea shouted, and both women turned and sent arrows into the chest of a heavy knight that had been coming up from behind them. “Six!” Both of them lacking a readied arrow, Petra turned and swung her bow like a club into the head of an oncoming sword wielder, knocking him stumbling back just far enough for Dorothea to lob a wind-accelerated dagger into the side of his head. 

Byleth moved as if a wraith slicing her way through the souls of the damned. An unfortunate knight with a silver sword approached her ready to attack, but as he began a downward swing, he found a hand around his wrist, feeling the grip tighten until he could feel his bones cracking dropping his blade right as he felt three sharp fingers tearing through his armor like butter, piercing his heart. 

While Byleth pulled her hand free from the dead man’s chest, one of his braver comrades approached her from behind, lance at the ready, only for it to be grasped just below the head, the handle yanked out of his grasp and thrown aside, as Byleth reached out, grabbing the man under his jaw and the back of his head, wrenching her hands around and snapping his neck to the point his head was nearly torn off. 

She charged forward, a brawler approaching her to battle one on one. She’d be impressed if she was not so enraged and he not so stupid. Byleth caught his strike in her glowing fingers, crushing his hand in their grasp and using the now-mangeld mass of flesh to pull him toward her, grabbing him by the jaw and tearing the entirety of the structure free from his head, his tongue lilting freely util Byleth smashed the jagged end of the broken bone in her hand into his soft palette, pinning the tongue in place and killing him before he could even scream. Byleth threw the corpse aside, walking up the stairs that lead to the walkway, approaching from the side where Hubert stood, magic at the ready. 

“Professor, I ask that you step aside and please, do not impede us any longer.” Hubert said, however the request seemed to be rather heartily denied as Byleth, at that moment holding a soldier up by his throat, clenched her fist, crushing the man's throat before she threw him, gurgling and choking, to the ground at Hubert’s feet. 

“Let me speak to Edelgard.” The Ashen Demon ordered. 

“I can not do that, Professor.” Hubert said. 

“Ferdinand.” The orange haired noble turned to the professor who had just called his name. “I will trust Hubert to you. Ensure he does not interfere.” Hubert moved, lobbing a Thoron blast at Byleth who, on blind instinct, held her hands up to block her face. She found the magic blocked as if by some great shield, seemingly dispelled, at least mostly, apon contact with the bone just as it had happened with Solon. Some scraps managed to pass by, striking her and opening several small wounds across her face, but little more. Hubert looked visibly startled, swallowing down his fear as Ferdinand, pulling his saber free from his scabbard, steeled himself for a moment before walking to his partner. 

“Ferdinand, please do not make me fight you.” Hubert requested, sounding almost pleading, his hands glowing with energy pulsing a bright violet against a black energy darker than the night sky. 

“I have made you do nothing, Hubert. You were the one who marched in here, weapons at the ready.” Ferdinand shook his head, his lips quivering a bit as he stood between Hubert and the Professor, allowing them to move on. Ferdinand’s eyes met Hubert’s. “Why, my heart? Why have you done this?” 

Hubert’s jaw clenched, memories of a once-happy brunette returning as a scared, vengeful young woman ringing through his mind as a midday bell would ring in the center of a dead village. 

“Because I could not protect her then, so I will do what I must to protect her now.” Hubert said, raising his hand, pointing at the duo currently approaching Edelgard and Ladislava. But Ferdinand stepped in front of him, saber discarded and arms outstretched. 

“Then you will do it through me.” Ferdinand said, a grave solemnity in his voice as he stood there, chest within inches of the pulsing preparation of a spell in Hubert’s hand. Hubert hesitated, for just a moment, and Ferdinand whispered another few words. “I’m sorry, dear.” Hands grabbed at Hubert’s lapels in an eerily familiar sensation to the night before, but this time it ended quickly as one forehead slammed against another, and both Ferdinand and Hubert were sent to the ground, dazed and likely concussed. 

Catherine and Byleth moved to Edelgard, a tall brunette in dragon-wing adorned armor stood beside her. 

“I got the bitch in the fancy suit.” Catherine muttered. “Just...be careful.” Byleth simply nodded, and Catherine charged right past Edelgard, her shoulder burying into the chest of the tall woman and bull rushing her backward, farther down the walkway, slamming her into a distant support beam. The woman grunted, kicking Catherine back and lobbing a fist into the side of her head, drawing a sword from her hip and lashing out, barely missing Catherine’s face as the blonde rolled backward over her shoulder, popping up and retaliating with Thunderbrand, the blade absolutely radiating energy, 

Catherine slammed the but of her blade into the woman’s chest, throwing her back into the ornate railing that lined the walkway. That same railing shattered as Catherine swung down, barely missing her opponent as the brunette dodged out of the way in the nick of time, landing a solid slash on Catherine’s left thigh in the process. 

“For a woman with such a fancy blade, you seem to handle it like a child.” The woman said, spinning her sword in her hand and flicking it clean of the thin line of blood that had lined the edge. Catherine grunted, stepping on her wounded leg and rallying into another attack, swinging to go up from below and cleave the woman in half. But this time the woman quite literally leapt over her, landing in a low crouch and striking to bury her blade into Catherine’s thigh, only for Catherine to barely spin around in time to knock her blade off course, right between Catherine’s legs. A boot came down onto the sword's blade, pinning it to the ground as Catherine’s other foot swung up and knocked the brunette’s head back, sending her sprawling on the ground. 

“Who’s the child now, bitch?” Catherine asked the presumably unconscious woman, moving to assist Byleth, only to feel a boot smash into the back of her leg, sending her knee into the hard stone with all the weight of her and her armor atop it, making a sickening crack sound ring through Catherine’s body. 

“Still you.” The brunette said, pushing herself up and wiping blood from her mouth, dragging herself up and regaining her blade. “And my name is Ladislava, not ‘bitch’ you theocratic mongrel.” 

“‘Theocratic…?’ Oh fuck off, I’ve got better shit to do than foreplay with a bitch with a knife kink.” Catherine said, standing and moving to charge the woman again, blade glowing with energy as her eyes did as well. This time, the woman moved not to dodge, but to charge, running at Catherine only to drop into a slide before she could strike. Another swift kick, and Catherine was sent sprawling over the remnants of the railing, falling six feet down onto the floor below, her body hitting the ground with a loud thud as she looked up, dazed, as Ladislava leapt down gracefully, blade hung limp in her grip as she walked over to her. “Goddess damnit… the last time I got my ass kicked this hard, I at least got laid afterward.” 

“It seems odd that you make so many allusions to sex while fighting for your life, miss Charon.” Ladislava said, stepping onto Catherine’s chest and pressing the tip of her blade to Catherine’s throat. “Now stay.” 

Catherine had many conflicting feelings about her current situation, but one question, for some reason, crossed her mind and reached her mouth first. 

“How in the hell do you know my name?” 

“Simple, I was told it. Emperor Edelgard gave strict orders, unless unavoidable, you and that leaf-haired instructor are not to be harmed beyond necessary to ensure the mission’s success.” Catherine’s eyes went wide. 

“Princess said to spare me? Shit, I’m honored.” Catherine choked out, feeling the boot press heavier into her sternum. “But I’m really going to need you to get your boot off of me now. I have an appointment with that ‘leaf haired instructor’.” Ladislava looked about ready to disobey whatever order Edelgard had given her not to kill Catherine, until she felt something sharp poke into her back. She turned, seeing three archers all with their weapons drawn on her. If the information she had been given was correct, two of them were named ‘Bernadetta’ and ‘Petra’, while the one in the middle, the one who had prodded her with the tip of his arrow, went by ‘Fredrique’.

“Step away from the dumbass please.” Fredrique said. As Ladislava tried to assess the situation, to find some way to escape, she felt something smash into the side of her leg, falling to the ground and dropping her blade. Catherine slid up, body already starting to hurt, and slowly pushed herself up. 

“Thanks, you asshole.” Catherine said, clapping Fredrique on the back. 

“Thank the kids. They’re the ones who convinced me not to let your sorry ass die.” Fredrique said, and suddenly the pat on his back turned into a slap in the head. “Ow! Bitch, I was kidding! Damn.” 

“Shut up, man. Not the time. Go make sure the rest of the grunts are taken care of. I’ve got somewhere to be.” Catherine said, marching back toward the walkway, a furious, struggling Ladislava in tow. 

Finally, they were two. Edelgard, the Flame Emperor, one in the same, stood before Byleth, and that swirling vortex she had felt in the aftermath of her father’s passing was nothing compared to the utter hurricane that churned her every organ at that moment. Edelgard held that scarily familiar axe in her hand, her eyes steeled on Byleth as they faced each other.

“Professor, please, don’t make this any harder than-” 

“I trusted you.” Byleth said, sending Edelgard into an utter silence. 

“Byleth…” 

“Shut up! Do not say my fucking name like that! Like you care!” Byleth growled, her hands clenching into cold, tight fists. That voice sounded so like the one that had moaned her name just hours ago, and yet now it burned her ears like fire. “You listened to my lessons just well enough to throw them back at me, but never to actually follow them, is that it?” 

“No, Professor -” 

“What!? What are you going to say? Tell me, Edelgard, how does this,” Byleth gestured to the men dying at the hands of the Black Eagles. “Show that you’re relying on your comrades?! Trusting them!? Trusting me?! How-” 

“Professor, now is not the time to explain…” 

“Do not fucking interupt me! You don’t get to say that! You don’t get to say this isn’t the time, because you made this the time. I’m giving you a chance to explain, now take it or fight!” Edelgard looked at her, taking a deep breath as her fingers gripped the handle of her axe.

“I… Byleth there is too little time to explain everything. Not here. Please, just trust me, I beg you, and I will tell you everything you want to know. But not here, it’s not safe. I know, you have no reason to, but please, my dear, understand that I wouldn’t do things as I’ve been forced to do them if I did not have the utmost necessity.” Byleth looked away, at the mass of her students fighting, barely scraping by some battles, and her hands glowed brighter still. 

“I did trust you.” Byleth looked to Edelgard, her cheeks lined with thin streaks of fresh tears. “I thought you trusted me too.” Edelgard flinched at the hurt in her Professor’s, her partner’s, voice. “Now go on. Do it.” 

Edelgard hesitated, but saw that there was a storm raging in her partner’s mind, and that there was little else she could do. She charged forward, aiming a strike at Byleth’s legs, her aim being to incapacitate her quickly and let this end without blood, only to have it blocked with one hand as Byleth swung her fist around. The bone gauntlet connected with nothing but empty air as Edelgard shifted back and out of it’s path.

Byleth glowered at the move, but seemed to notice something, dropping her stance and bracing one hand on the ground, swinging her leg out, seeming intent on swiping her partner’s legs out from beneath her. However Edelgard saw the attack coming, and managed to jump above the offending limb.

Byleth had left herself in a rather difficult position, barely able to roll out of the path of Edelgard’s axe handle as it slammed down where her head had been. She pushed up from the ground, gritting her teeth as a rage filled cry released from her throat and she returned to her feet in time to raise her fist and block the oncoming follow-up strike, the warped bone of the axe digging into the bone of her gauntlets, painfully deep.

Edelgard knocked one of her Professor’s fists off-course from a counter-strike with the handle of her axe and followed it with another handle-strike to her Professor’s stomach, knocking the wind out of her with a grunt. Byleth grabbed the axe handle as it was pulled away, yanking it back and nearly out of Edelgard’s hands. However, the young woman kept her grasp and, rather than be disarmed, charged forward and knocked her shoulder into Byleth’s chest. But, Byleth knew her partner, knew this dance, just a bit too well, and as Edelgard charged her shoulder forward, Byleth stepped out of reach just far enough that the charge missed. With Edelgard off balance, Byleth managed to get a strong enough grip with each hand on both of Edelgard’s arm, holding them in a strange deadlock that looked somewhere between a wrestler’s pose and an embrace. Edelgard looked into tearfilled seafoam and cobalt pools.

“You’re holding back.” Byleth said under her breath. 

“You are too.” Edelgard whispered. “Please, Byleth, you know I wouldn’t do this if I had any other way. I am begging you, trust me, even if I don’t deserve it. Let me prove myself. ” Byleth clenched her eyes shut, swallowing down her bitter mix of rage, fear, and hurt.

“Did you tell Monica to kill my father?” Byleth asked, desperation evident in her voice. 

“No, I swear! I had no idea that was happening until I was stood beside you, watching it happen.” 

“Shhhh.” Byleth quieted her, grabbing by her throat and sweeping her legs out from underneath her, slamming her back down onto the stone floor. Edelgard breathed heavily, Byleth’s grip thankfully not intent to choke her. “The match doesn’t stop until the whistle.” Edelgard looked confused, until she heard a flock of footsteps, and suddenly the class stood around them, Hubert had managed to escape from Ferdinand’s clutches, stood dazedly with a spell in his hands, looking as both sides of the walkway were quickly lined with his classmates, all carrying the large crest stones they had taken from the fallen knights. 

“Professor, please, I beg of you, let Lady Edelgard go.” Hubert whispered as Catherine, Joseph, Fredrique and Rhea moved up, Catherine threw Ladislava at Hubert’s feet as Fredrique aimed his bow at the man in question. Ladislava quickly stood, poised as if she intended to fight the entirety of them barehanded. 

“Don’t be stupid kid, you’re beat. Surrender, and we’ll make sure you ain't hurt.” Fredrique said. 

“You’re a smart man, Hubert, you know stepping down is the only way out of this with any good ending. Let us try to make something not so awful out of this.” Catherine said, stepping closer, now stood beside Byleth and the pinned Edelgard, the three women making a strange barrier between the two camps as Catherine extended a hand to Hubert. 

“No!” Rhea said, her voice filled with rage like a petulant child. “There’s no ‘good ending’ for these blasphemers! They have pointed their blade to the very heart of the Goddess, in one of her most sacred sites! Professor, kill Edelgard. Sir Fredrique, Sir Catherine, dispose of the other two.” Fredrique and Joe exchanged a glance, and Joseph only shook his head no as Fredrique’s eyes pleaded for guidance on what to do. Catherine looked to Lady Rhea, her arms spreading just a bit out, putting herself between Rhea and Hubert. 

“Lady Rhea, I will not slaughter students. The church has always stood by the right of the accused to a trial, have we not? We can not slaughter them here if they’re defeated, there’s no honor in it.” Catherine said quietly, trying to calm the woman, stepping closer as she prayed she could make some sort of peace out of this nightmare, but she went visibly rigid as Rhea’s hand crested her cheek. 

“Sir Catherine.” Rhea’s voice was ice and acid in Catherine’s veins, “Do not argue. You are a knight, and you will do as you’re instructed.” Catherine nodded as she stepped aside. 

“Yes, Lady Rhea.” Joe and Fredrique exchanged another worried glance, as all their worst fears began to come to light. 

The other students looked among themselves, confused until Byleth began to speak. 

“Eagles, you’ve all become something akin to family to me.” Byleth said, drawing confused looks from all those around her as she pulled her hand from Edelgard’s throat. “I hope that I’ve given you the tools you need, to fight, or to think, to decide for yourself where the future takes you. Do not follow blindly, whatever path you take in life... but I hope we may greet each other as friends when we wake up tomorrow morning.” Byleth said, looking up to Catherine as the final sentence left her lips. The sound of a loud, soft two-note whistle rang in their ears, and the class knew at once what was happening. ‘The fight is over.’ Catherine watched in slow motion as Byleth wheeled herself around, her fist smashing into Rhea’s head, sending the woman flying back into the guardrail of the walkway before she moved to help Edelgard to her feet. 

“Letty...Princess...” Catherine almost seemed to beg as Byleth managed to get El up to her feet. The two looked to Catherine, as did Joseph and Fredrique. 

“Cat, please, come with us.” Byleth offered her hand. 

“I...I can’t…” Catherine said, her voice strained.

“I know…” Byleth whispered, moving with Edelgard toward the entrance as the sound of snapping bone and unholy growling came from the slowly-standing Rhea, whose body seemed to be warping, limbs extending only to retract, as if she were battling for control. “I’m so sorry, baby...I love you.” Byleth said as she sprinted out of the door, grabbing Hubert under his arm and helping the injured young man flee, Ferdinand taking up the other arm as they moved out of sight. 

Catherine wanted to scream, to chase them and tell them they’d misunderstood, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak another word in fact, as those few words had already drained what little power she had. She was a statue, a prisoner in her own mind. 

“Kill them.” A monstrous voice ordered from where Rhea stood, her mouth seemingly having split open, revealing long rows of knife-sharp teeth behind her cheeks. “KILL THEM!” It ordered again, and before Catherine knew what in the hell she was doing, she had Thunderbrand drawn and was chasing after people she considered almost family, weapon ready to kill whether she wanted to or not. 

She was never so happy to be worn down and hobbled by a battle in her life. Thankfully, the first time they actually got a good view of the class was when they reached the entrance it appeared the class had exited out of, the mass of fleeing bodies running over a distant hill, far out of their reach. 

“Cat, what the hell is wrong with you?” Joe asked, slapping her cheek, getting no reaction from her. He shook her, and aside from terror in her eyes, she didn’t react. “Say something. Come on, kid, say something! Please!” Joseph pleaded quietly, before looking up the hall they had come from. 

“Fuck, did you see that thing… I told you! Nothing with that much ass is human!” 

“Fredrique! Is now really the time!?” 

“No! But what the fuck else am I going to do!? I’m sorry, ok!? I’m scared!” Fredrique said weakly as he hugged his bow to his chest like a security blanket. 

“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry I yelled.” Joseph said, wrapping the archer in a hug as he kept his eyes trained on Catherine. “Cat, we gotta run. Now. This shit has gone to hell, and that thing back there ain’t human. If we run now, we can catch up with the Eagles and try to find out what the hell is going on. Please, come with us.” 

Catherine tried to move, to speak, but with all that she tried, only three words managed to escape her lips in that entire conversation. 

“Run.” Catherine whispered.

“Cassy, I’m not leaving you here like this. Not with whatever that thing is.” Joseph said, trying to hide the fact that there was a steady line of tears flowing into his faded salt and pepper beard. 

“Please. Run.” Catherine pleaded, her voice cracking as she looked Joseph dead in the eye. He pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to think of something he could do. They couldn’t carry her that far, not like this. And whatever that woman had done to her, it didn’t seem to be fading. It seemed as if every word took more effort for her to force out. 

“Baby, they’re getting farther out. If we’re going to go, we need to leave, quick.” Fredrique said, timidly. Joseph had never felt so betrayed. “Don’t look at me like that! I don’t like this any more than you! But she’s telling us to run, and dammit Joe I’ve lost too many people to walk you back into that damn cavern with that thing, empty handed! I’m not going to fucking lose you!” Fredrique said through tears, screaming in his husband's face as he seemed to be defending himself to himself more than Joseph. 

“... Cassy, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Joseph said, grabbing the stiff woman and wrapping her in an awkward hug, leaning in to kiss the crown of her head. “I swear, we’ll get to them, tell them what happened. We’ll find a way to break you out of this. Just stay alive. Please, Cassy just stay alive… I’m so fucking sorry kiddo.” Joseph whispered over and over until Fredrique tugged on his arm. The class had gotten even farther. Joe nodded, and the redhead walked up, resting a hand on Catherine's shoulder. 

“We're going to be back. I swear. We’re a team, and that doesn’t end here. You’re too fucking stubborn to let this bitch break you, so don’t give up on us, and know we ain’t giving up on you. You’re not getting out of that round of drinks.” Catherine wanted to nod, but more than anything she wanted them to fucking move. She could feel something growing closer in the pit of her stomach. 

Finally, they began to flee toward the retreating class. She stood there, watching them run as a gnawing, terrified desperation clawed at her insides. At the same time, a sort of pride filled her. They’d gotten out. They’d escaped. They were safe. It was a sick sort of hope, but it was hope all the same. She heard approaching footsteps, and the sensation of fear grew to that of a panic stricken rat trying to claw its way out from inside of her. 

Then she felt a hand softly stroke it’s way up and down her spine, before grabbing her by the back of the neck. 

“Fetch the deserters, pet.” A monstrous voice cooed. 

Then the world went dark. 

After several hours of marching, the Black Eagle’s reached the lean but densely packed war camp that had been made in one of the large forests to the west of the Monastery. The class had mostly been quiet, in a state of shock as they tried to come to terms with everything they had just watched happen. 

Edelgard, over the course of the march, had tried several times to speak to Byleth, but the woman seemed to always manage to avoid her. However, as the Black Eagles gathered in the center of the camp, a large dirt clearing where their now-former head-of-house stood, Edelgard could see Byleth’s seafoam-and-cobalt eyes peeking at her through the crowd, piercing straight through her. 

And so, for what felt like the first time in years, Edelgard was honest with those around her, as she began to speak about the plight that faced their motherland. 

“Thank you, all, for standing here beside me now as friends. I have hope that that may continue, but I will not deceive you to keep you alongside me on the path I now walk. So, I shall explain why I have declared the war that we march to tomorrow at dawn.” Edelgard said, gaining some commotion among the crowd. “Many of you know, first hand, the brutality, the cruelness, of the nations that make up our once united home. To many, the vast differences of the three make us wonder how so many of our stories seem to mirror each other, and that is because they all derive from the Crest system that holds us by the very blood in our veins. Crests, as enforced through the violence of the church, hold our people in two groups, those with the luck of being born with a crest, and those who wallow, scrape by, or die through not. Women with crests are sold off like breeding stock, Empire, Kingdom, and Alliance alike.” Bernadetta flinched a bit, toying with her fingers. Petra wrapped a reassuring arm around her, hugging her close. “Those without crests are left in squalor and poverty. To die or worse at the hands of those with crests, or those who enforce the crest system.” Dorothea grit her teeth, and Bernadetta reached over, taking the songstress’s hand in her own. “Those who rebel against the church are slaughtered.” Ashe pressed a hand to her mouth, sobbing quietly as Leonie tried to help her come back together. “And those claim to speak of love, of harmony and peace under the goddess’s reign instead declare death sentences and turn into literal beasts to try and maintain their control. 

For that is what controls Fodlan. Not three nations, but three puppets on the fingers of the church, with Rhea as the ultimate puppeteer. She is old beyond any human lifetime, and her control over our home has not only let so many of us wallow in misery, in torture, in desperation, but has actively caused and enforced much of it. Today, I have declared war not just on the Church, but on that order which it has held as a chain around all of our people’s throats for centuries too long!” Edelgard took a deep breath, steeling herself. “If you wish to stand beside me, then I thank you. If not, then tomorrow morning you will be sent on your way with enough supplies to make it to any nearby settlement five times over, with no harm done to you. I do not expect an answer now, but know that this force marches at dawn, and that will be when you must make your decision.” Edelgard said, looking at the crowd. “To any who may have questions, I will be in my tent.” With that Edelgard walked away, entering a large red leather tent. 

Nobody expected it to be Petra to step toward the tent first. She strode to the front of the leather structure, pushing her way inside almost immediately after Edelgard. 

Byleth sighed to herself and shook her head. She knew she needed to spend a bit more time away from Flame Emperor, from Edelgard, from her partner before actually having herself in check enough to trust that the conversation wouldn’t boil down to screaming. So, she decided she would bury her own troubles by trying to help her student’s deal with their own. The only question was where in the hell to start. 

She saw Leonie and Ashe standing off to the side, and figured they were as good a duo to start with as any. Leonie looked up as she approached, her eyes begging for help. 

“How are you two holding up?” Byleth asked, hand resting on her short sword. 

“My horse will never forgive me for the hell that ride back was, but I think I’ll be fine. Some knight came around talking about a mess tent, and I’ve been debating about grabbing some.” Leonie said, eyes peering over to Ashe every few words as the woman seemed to stare off at Phlegon, who seemed to be laid out, dozing at the edge of the camp. Much like the wyvern, Ashe’s mind was miles away. 

“Ashe, what about you?” Byleth asked, snapping in the girl’s face, to absolutely no reaction. Ashe looked away from the wyvern to Byleth, shrugging a bit and mumbling some non-answer as she walked to the resting beast. The moment she was reasonably out of earshot, Leonie let out a groan. 

“She’s been like this since we left the Catacombs. She won’t stop staring off into the distance, and she has barely said a word the entire ride back. Do you have any idea how awkward a two hour horse ride with a mute girl can be!? Pretty damned awkward, let me tell you.” Leonie lamented. 

“I think she’s just having a rough time processing.” Byleth said, watching Ashe walk over and drop to the ground next to the small blue animal. Ashe leaned back against the mount, and Byleth watched as it lifted it’s massive head up, looking at the girl and giving her a long lick across the face before settling back with its head in her lap. “We all kind of are.” 

“I guess so.” Leonie mumbled, tapping her foot a bit as she grew a bit quieter. “Do… Do you intend to join Edelgard on her grand war effort then?” Byleth swallowed and nodded, looking at the orange haired girl before her and wishing she could reassure her in the way her eyes made it seem like she needed. 

“I suppose so. I don’t quite know if I have a choice in the matter. We aren’t likely to be welcomed at the church any longer.” 

“There’s other options.” Leonie offered, taking Byleth’s inquisitive look as a sign to continue. “I saw a couple of familiar faces in the Imperial forces here. Old members of Jeralt’s brigade. They’d follow you in a heartbeat if you asked them to. I would too.” Leonie said, a bit timid. 

“You suggest we go, then? Leave the war to itself and rebuild dad’s team?” Leonie shrugged. 

“I don’t know, I’m not suggesting anything. I just...it’s an option. That’s all I’m saying.” 

“True, it’s an option. But not one I consider very likely. I’ve said goodbye to enough today. The rest of the class...Edelgard...I don’t think my heart could handle as much.” Byleth said, matter of factly. Leonie nodded, rubbing her arm a bit. 

“What do you think, well, um, dad would do?” Leonie asked, still unused to calling him that. Byleth bit her cheek, looking around as she surveyed the faces of her students. Caspar was sitting beside Linhardt on a log, bowl in his hand as they ate by the fire away from the center of the camp. Bernadetta was fletching arrows as Dorothea twirled a dagger in her fingers thoughtlessly, mind a thousand miles away. Petra had yet to step out from the tent, and Hubert was at that moment stepping out of a tent further off in the distance, Ferdinand with him, eyes filled with horror and recently-ended tears. Those eyes seemed to pause on her, before Ferdinand began walking away. Hubert looked over to her, and when he saw the question in her eyes, all he could do was nod solemnly. So Byleth had a rather good idea of what Ferdinand had just been made privy to. How heavy it must be to bear the weight of the crimes of one’s father, if on the conscience alone. 

“I think dad would groan and call this all a giant headache.” Byleth said, drawing a chuckle from Leonie as she spoke. It was a small, weak thing but in the gloom of the war camp it felt like a breath of fresh air. “But, I do think he’d say that we have an obligation to do what is right. To fight for people, for ourselves…” 

“Do you think she can win?” Leonie asked. Byleth thought for a moment, and then shrugged. 

“It might not be easy. But I think we could win. I suppose I have to. If you don’t enter a fight thinking you can win, then you never will.” 

‘Sounds a bit naive.” Leonie muttered. 

“Let’s call it ‘optimistic’.” Leonie looked at her as if she was speaking Dagdan. 

“‘Optimistic’? Who the hell are you and what did you do to Byleth?” The professor in question could only roll her eyes. Leonie prepared to walk off, but before she did, she pat Byleth on the back, right at the shoulder blade. “Wherever you go, I follow. Whatever he might have wanted, I know dad would want me watching your dumb ass.” 

“I would have no one else behind me in battle.” Byleth said, giving a small smile as Leonie walked toward the mess tent. Byleth took a few minutes to think to herself, before moving to follow Leonie. 

It was a curious feeling, to have a sister, even if it was a sister by such a strange arrangement as theirs. 

“Petra.” Edelgard greeted her with a bow as she noticed the woman entering her tent. Petra returned the gesture, crossing her arms as she looked at the large map of Fodlan spread over the center table. Edelgard followed her eyes to the small island off Fodlan’s coast. “I suppose you have questions.” 

“I do.” Petra said, her tone more serious than Edelgard had heard from the woman before. This was also the first time in several months, she realized, that she did not see her near Bernadetta or Dorothea. 

“Then please, do not hesitate to ask.” Petra tapped Brigid on the map. 

“What are your intentions for my homeland, if you are to win this war? I’m sure I do not need to tell you that my people have learned from the tragedies that befell the people of Duscar. The king of Faergus once claimed to fight his war for ‘justice’. I have no intention of allowing my people to meet anything resembling a similar fate to Duscar.” Petra said, her finger still pressed to the map. 

“I have no intentions for your homeland, if my war is to succeed. As far as I am concerned, the moment that Fodlan is free and united, Brigid will be the same.” Petra looked at her, openly suspicious. 

“Words are easily toppled things.” 

“That is true.” Edelgard said as she walked over to a small table off to the side of the tent, riffling around and grabbing papers here and there, wandering back to her and handing the small stack of forms. Petra skimmed them, looking up as she realized what exactly they were. “Orders, formal orders from the Adrestian Throne to all standing troops engaged in the occupation of Brigid and Dagda to return immediately to the mainland. Only the barest of supplies to be taken, and no structures or armories to be broken down and transported back.” Petra nodded, reading through the forms a bit more in depth. 

“Then what of those structures? Those weapons?” Petra looked at her, concern evident, as she wondered if there would be some trick or fee. 

“That is for you to decide, if I am not mistaken. Your claim to the throne is rightful, only delayed by your time here. I would like to ask you consider lending some of the strength of Brigid’s fighters to our struggle here. But, those weapons were overwhelmingly built with Brigian steel, I would not feel right having my men bring them to the Empire.” 

“I’m not sure of what good my claim to the throne is, here in Fodlan. Any request for aid from here would likely be read as a more kindly worded ransom than any sort of call of solidarity.” 

“There is no need for the request to come from Fodlan. You may leave for Brigid as soon as the end of tomorrow’s battle, if you wish.”

“I...I could go home?” Petra asked, almost afraid that speaking it aloud might break it, reveal some trick, deceit, ploy. Edelgard only nodded. Petra swallowed a lump in her throat as she noticed one small downside. “I...I do not think Dorothea or Bernadetta would be able to accompany me, were I intending to do as you suggest. The way it may look, some might claim I am being forced like a puppet, calling them my captors, not my partners. Worse yet they might be targeted.” 

“I do not like to say this, but I had already intended to request that they stay. Our forces could use such skilled fighters as them, but if leaving them behind is a step too far, I am certain I could find some way to-“

“No.” Edelgard went quiet, as a resolve fell into Petra’s voice with a certainty that was so very refreshing. “Do not think me heartless, I love them both dearly, and I’ve told them as such… But my home will always come first. I would give my life in an instant were it to guarantee Brigid a future free of suffering.” Edelgard nodded, finding solace in that familiar determination. 

“I understand completely. But I do request, for your sake and mine, that you refrain from any noble sacrifices. I worry your partners might tear my whole army to shreds if they came to blame me for your death.” Petra did not laugh, and Edelgard thought she really ought to leave the jokes to those better at them then her. A small pang ran through her as one name in particular popped up, but she buried it deep in the back of her mind. She had made her choice.

“I’m not hungry.” Ashe muttered as Byleth set the bowl of food in front of her, sitting down beside her and leaning against Phlegon. The light blue wyvern stirred and opened her eyes, seeing the familiar face and Rhea point her tail down onto Byleth’s lap, holding the two women in a strange sort of hug. 

“Bullshit. Eat.” Byleth said, scooping a heavy spoonful of the rice and vegetable concoction into her mouth. Ashe didn’t move, simply staying there, looking off in the distance as she rubbed one hand up and down Phlegon’s neck. Byleth looked out in the distance, trying to follow Ashe’s eyes to what was so interesting to Ashe. There was nothing of interest that she could note, aside from torn up foliage from their venturing into the camp. She looked back to Ashe, who had one hand lightly toying with her braided hair. Then, she returned her gaze to the distance, trying to piece it all together. 

It took her a moment too long to realize what exactly she was staring off at. She was watching the route they’d entered from. She was watching the very edge of the distance, like a hawk, for anything at all. 

She was watching for someone to arrive.

“It’s been hours.” Ashe said quietly. “Three, by my best count.” 

“That sounds about right.” Byleth said, solemnity apparent as she nudged the bowl closer toward her student with her boot. “Which means it’s getting to be time for you to eat some food. It’s not great, but by the way you all talk it’s better than my cooking.” Ashe picked up the bowl, but left the spoon untouched, hanging off the edge precariously. She just stared at that same spot in the distance, the contents of her meal uneaten. 

“She’s not coming, is she?” Ashe asked, knowing the answer but fearing it all the same. Byleth suddenly understood where Ashe had been coming from, setting the bowl aside, having lost her appetite. 

“I don’t think so.” Byleth said weakly. She went to run a hand through her hair, catching herself and instead toying with her fingers a bit. 

“I figured…” 

“Then why are you still watching for her?” Ashe looked into her lap as Phlegon readjusted her head, forked tongue flickering out and nearly knocking her bowl out of her hands. 

“...I guess I was just praying I could at least hold on to someone I care about, for once. Between my parents, Christophe, Lonato, and now her and Seteth… my track record doesn’t look very good.” 

“I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself. It’s not your fault. And you aren’t alone, Ashe. Leonie is sat up in the mess tent worried sick about you, and we’re going to get Seteth back tomorrow, I promise.” Byleth said, reaching over and patting the younger woman on the shoulder. “You’re ok. Don’t let yourself get up in your head.” Ashe nodded, picking the spoon out of her bowl and taking a small bite. 

“I guess you have a point… and I mean, hey, I still have you, right professor?” Byleth smiled, a wide grin that showed her chipped teeth and the gap toward the very edge of her smile. 

“You’re damn right you do. Although I don’t think that name fits very well anymore.” Ashe chuckled a bit, it was weak, but it was something. 

“I guess not.”

“Do you want to come eat with Leonie and I?” Ashe looked at the dragon in her lap, hesitating a bit. 

“I just feel bad… leaving her to wait alone when it’s my fault her mate isn’t here.” 

“You can make it up to her tomorrow by bringing Seteth back.” Byleth said, standing up and offering her hand. Ashe took it, standing up and earning a tired, displeased growl from the still slumbering dragon. 

It was some time later in the night when Byleth, shoulders heavy with fatigue from a long night and an even longer life, stood in the entryway to Edelgard’s tent. 

“Professor.” Edelgard greeted, her tone implying clearly that she was expecting the worst. Had it been an hour or two prior, she likely would have gotten it. But at that moment there was a single question Byleth had ruling her thoughts. 

“Edelgard.” 

“I… assume you have something you wish to ask? Or to say?” Edelgard offered, hands awkwardly fidgeting with eachother as she stood in front of Byleth, feeling oddly exposed even with her armor on. 

“I do. Last night… Was it all just part of it?” Byleth’s eyes, while still hers, held an unwavering emptiness even as her jaw seemed to shiver with barely contained emotion. 

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” Edelgard had the strangest feeling of being lost in an endless sea with no compass to guide her, let alone a map. 

“Edelgard, I need you to be honest.” The Emperor hated that that was now something Byleth felt she needed to request. “Was sleeping with me meant to be some...some hairbrained scheme to make it more likely I would join you? Or stand aside while you took whatever those damned orbs were from that throne room?” With that, the floor seemed to fall out from beneath Edelgard’s heart, sending it plummeting into the pit of her stomach, if not through the floor. 

“No! Byleth, It was nothing of the sort, I swear.” 

“Then why in the hell did you trust me enough to sleep with me, but not enough to ask for my help?!” Edelgard was taken aback by the hurt in Byleth’s voice. Byleth took a breath, the words having poured out quicker, angrier, then she had intended. 

“ I was afraid.” Edelgard admitted frankly. “Afraid that that night would be the last time I’d ever see you as a friend, or anything other than an enemy on a battlefield. I was so petrified that you would side with the church and all of our time together...everything we had was going to fall apart and be just another person that I cared for being hurt. I just wanted to have one happy night together, even if it was to be the last.” Byleth nodded as Edelgard spoke, feeling a bit more assured, if still hurt. There was a long moment of silence, every second seeming to tick away leaving Edelgard more and more visibly nervous, until finally she had to fill the silence. “I’m sorry, my Professor, that all of this happened as it did. But I thank you for trying to understand why I've done things the way I have. It would be easy to simply abandon caring to begin with. ” 

“I have no intention of abandoning you, Edelgard, but…” Byleth took a deep breath, trying to find her words and sort them. She moved to the side of the map table, leaning back against it and heaving a mountainous sigh.“You asked me to trust you, and I did. You asked me to follow you, I did. I promised to help you as best I could to achieve your goals, and I have tried my best to do just that… But you promised me you’d ask your comrades for help, that you would let me help when I could, and then went back on your word! I offered you my hand in the classroom that day and this morning you instead slapped it away, spit in my face and held a knife to my throat! I still, against all of my better judgement, want to stand beside you. But I will not be led around blindly anymore. I trusted you enough to believe you about my father, and in the process I just set myself to war against some sort of monstrous creature that leads the most powerful force in this part of the world, of which my other partner is a part! So for the love of the fucking goddess, El, please just tell me what the hell is going on so I can try to help.” The weariness and hurt in that final request made Edelgard’s heart, now having dropped to somewhere roughly near the center of the planet, shatter. 

“Ok. If you intend to stay, then you’re right, you should know what you are walking into.” Edelgard said, moving to lean against the table beside Byleth. “Where do you want me to begin?”

“You told me you had no hand in my father’s death.” 

“And I didn’t.” Edelgard assured. 

“Then who did? Was it that… Solon creature? He had mentioned being the mastermind behind Flayn’s abduction, and your ‘Flame Emperor’ was there as well, ordering around that Death Knight.” 

“I have been working with Solon, yes. As well as the man who pulls his strings.” 

“And that would be?” Byleth asked, curious what kind of monster could lead someone like Solon. 

“His name is Thales, but he also goes by the name Lord Arundel. My uncle.” Byleth looked at her confused. She had never mentioned an uncle, nor had there been another man in any of the family portraits she’d seen. “Thales is the one who pulled Kronya’s, or as you knew her, Monica’s, strings. As far as he is concerned, he holds mine as well.” 

“Your uncle? How could some lord hold power over you, especially now?” 

“It’s not as simple as him being a lord. He’s a monster. An ancient monster who has feuded with the beasts that guide the church long before any of us were born. His magic and the army of soldiers and mages under his command, as well as Solon’s studies and monsters, make them all formidable opponents… even more terrifying captors.” 

“So that is why…” Byleth took another deep breath, feeling lost as she tried to find something concrete to ask. “What even was the plan? If everything had gone perfectly, what was meant to happen?”

“I was to infiltrate the academy, learn as much as I could, and then either upon graduation or some other larger event, use that knowledge to lead the Adrestian Army on a warpath against the church and it’s puppet-states.” Byleth nodded, it seemed like a simple strategy, but something confused her. 

“But why attack now?”

“Well, that plan changed rather drastically several months ago… at Miklan’s tower.” Byleth flinched a bit, and could almost feel the pain in her chest. “What happened to Miklan was a tragedy. I had scouting units investigate the area, and in their conversations with the locals they found that Miklan’s group had not been raiding villages, but instead raiding bank transport carriages and nobles as they passed through their territory, passing the wealth beyond what they needed to maintain themselves onto those villages around them. I believe that is how the spear of house Gautier landed in his grasp, and I believe that is why he was killed. But, when he died and transformed into that beast Thales became curious, and when he is curious, Solon remains busy. He found that it was crests, specifically crest stones, that make those beasts occur when they push the body beyond its limits. So, Thales set out to explore those as a...military tactic. That’s why Flayn was abducted. Her blood contained a rare crest, and Solon was adamant about researching it. I only found out after the fact.” Byleth thought for a moment. 

“Why was Monica, or Kronya, or whatever the hell her name was, there with Flayn?”

“It was said she was to be my bodyguard, meant to keep me safe and ensure my identity was kept secret. They claimed it was because of my slip with the bergamot oil, the fact you noticed the scent when I’d left that cavern, they called it proof I needed help to ensure the secret. In reality, that was a reason that ‘arose’ after Kronya was already sent. I believe that they knew I was… growing close with you, and intended to put a stop to that.” 

“That’s why you disappeared…” Byleth muttered, her hands resting on the edge of the table.

“Yes. I wanted to come to you, please understand I wanted it more than almost anything, but every chance I had was thwarted or, well, ‘missed’.” 

“So Dad dying…” 

“When you’d brought up your concern about ‘Monica’ dominating my time, I thought I could use it. Play it against them to make them either retreat or at least admit their reasoning was false. They gave in, and told Kronya to ‘complete her duties and not return with me to the school after’. I realized too little, too late that her duties included trying to drive one last spike between us.” Byleth gripped the table edge, hearing wood crack between her fingers. 

“So my father was just some, some damned afterthought? He died because those people wanted me to hate you?” 

“As best i can tell, yes.” 

“... and I played right into their hands.” Byleth all but whispered, shoulders going slack as she seemed to be drained of whatever vigor she had had up til now. Edelgard reached over, resting her hand on Byleth’s, her fingers intertwining with her Professor’s. It was a small, but graciously accepted mercy as Byleth squeezed her hand. 

“As someone who has been entwined in those hands for most of my life, do not blame yourself. They are ancient, and they know how to play a person’s best aspects to their detriment. Torutre, manipulation, it is their ultimate game.” 

“Then why do you still fight for them? You command an army, use it!” 

“Do you think if I could I wouldn’t be doing it right at this moment?” Edelgard looked as if she were realizing Byleth didn’t know her at all. “Their magic as well as their armies are too advanced for me to combat without the entirety of Fodlan’s forces united behind the offensive. They are my primary enemy in this war, do not misunderstand me, but right now they are intent on destroying the church, and once the church is gone and I’ve united Fodlan, we can rid this world of them and be done with it for good!” 

“So that’s the plan? Ally with your tormentors until the church has fallen, and then turn the blades on them?” Edelgard nodded, and Byleth let a long, drawn out sigh escape her heavy heart. “Fine.” 

“Fine?” 

“Seems as good a plan as anything else. Tactics were never my strongest skill, but point me at who you need dead, and I’ll put them down.” Byleth said, the cavalier declaration slightly undercut by the fact Byleth held Edelgard’s hand in her own. 

“Thank you, my teacher. I appreciate your clerity in times like this.” Byleth chuckled, letting out a pressure she hadn’t realized had been held in her this whole time. 

“I just hope you have seen that you can actually rely on us all now, El.” Byleth said. 

“I do. I just… the risk was too great to try before all this.” 

“There’s always risk in trusting others, that is why it is difficult. The point of it is knowing when that risk is worth it.” 

“I suppose you’re right, Professor.” 

“I really don’t think that name is appropriate anymore.” Byleth said as an awkward sort of joke. Edelgard smiled a bit, running her thumb along Byleth’s knuckle.

“I think it is…” Edelgard hesitated, knowing it might be an improper time to ask, but figuring enough was improper about this whole ordeal that wasn’t much of a dissuasion. “Byleth, have you considered where you’ll sleep tonight?” 

“I have.” Byleth said quietly. 

“If you would like, there is space in my bed.” Edelgard offered. 

“I had considered asking… but I think it would be best if I took a cot in one of the barrack tents with the others. While I understand why you did what you did, and I am not intent to walk away from you or this fight… that doesn’t mean I'm not still hurt. I need to be clear headed for this fight, and I worry that it may cloud things if I stay. I’m not letting anyone else I care about die because of this. Just know that that still includes you.” Byleth let go of Edelgard’s hand, standing from the table and moving to the entrance. She paused midway through the flap of the tent, turning back briefly. “Goodnight, El. May your dreams be peaceful.” With that, Byleth stepped out, and Edelgard stood for a long while, staring at the exit. She knew, even with Byleth’s well wishes, her dreams would give her no peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo, looks like we’re in for some real fun shit soon! I will warn you all, as many of you were guessing last week, that we’re about to hit a WAVE of angst, so I beg you to gimme a few chapters to angst it up, and I promise you’ll see some realllllly gay shit lmao. Shit is going fucking nuts, but I promise I’m not a proponent of bury your gays, but that doesn’t mean i won’t kick the shit out of them emotionally. 
> 
> SO! Holy fuck, tell me your thoughts! What the hell is going on?! What’s going to happen to our friends back at the Monastery? What is Rhea going to do next?!


	23. Chapter 23: Fight Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell breaks loose as the Black Eagles launch their assault on the Monastery they called home days ago. Our strange trio in Byleth, Edelgard and Catherine charge in from opposite sides of the fight, and when the battle ends, only two are left, one of them broken beyond all recognition. 
> 
> “ There's a fight inside my mind tonight, Step in the ring, myself and I, If you met yourself, who would survive?” - Fight Night, Original God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up motherfuckers, it’s the angst train, and we’re chugging along to “fuck your emotional health” station. 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage
> 
> Also: HUGE fucking trigger warning for anything involving sexual assault, abuse, manipulation, emotional trauma, and anything of that nature. I don’t portray Catherine being assaulted, and it is only ever referenced as a past occurrence, but still, like, fuck. Section that is worst is marked with —————— dashes like last time.

Chapter 23

Catherine floated in a listless, restless slumber. Everything in her body ached, and it just didn’t seem to stop, neither did her tossing and turning. Her head hurt, her heart ached, but she couldn’t remember why. What had she been doing before she fell asleep, to be this simultaneously exhausted and this restless? 

When had she even fallen asleep? 

“You think we’re ever gonna catch up to those kids?” Fredrique asked, bow in his hands as he stared at the small fire they had built in the cover of several large trees. It was almost dark, and they had known they weren’t going to make it far in the dark if they couldn’t follow the trail from the class. So, a rough night of camping under the stars was their best bet. 

“I think so. We likely would’ve caught up by now if I weren’t so damn slow.” Joseph mumbled, scratching at his beard. 

“You can’t blame yourself, babe. There’s only so much you can do with that hammer.” Fredrique said, reaching over and rubbing Joseph’s knee. 

“They can’t be much further. We’ll get there by the morning, and then we can try and figure all this out.” Fredrique noticed the way his husbands voice seemed to fade away on the last few words, and he didn’t hesitate to reach over and wrap the heavier man in his arms. Joseph felt the way Fredrique’s chest shook from the ragged breathing that started, and could only sit there as Fredrique broke down crying yet again. 

“We left her behind… We just fucking left her there with that thing, whatever Rhea was. Goddess, what if she fucking ate Cat?!” Fredrique sobbed into Joseph's arm. 

“You heard her, Reekee. She knew the score, and she told us to go. We’re going to get her back. We’re going to save her. We’ll get that teacher, and that one girl, tell them what happened, and then it’ll all work out. We’ll bust Cat out, fix whatever weird shit Rhea put in her head, and then get her far away from all this. We can just settle up on a beach somewhere and watch this whole damn world tear itself apart for all I care. To hell with the Church. To hell with the Empire. As long as I’ve got you and Cat, alive and safe, the rest of it can all burn.” Joe reassured, running his hand through Fredrique’s absolutely filthy hair. 

The sound of a twig snapping sent both men to their feet, Joe with his hammer up and at the ready, Fredrique with an arrow already drawn, ready to fire. The entire camp stood in a tense silence, as the men looked around the perimeter of their clearing, searchingfor any sign of movement. 

A few seconds that felt like hours later, the body of a tall blonde knight stepped through the treeline. The woman’s hand swept away the bangs that had fallen into her eyes, while the other hand held a longsword made of morphed, twisted bone, with six long spikes jutting out of the main blade. 

“Catherine…” Fredrique whispered. The woman looked up, but it was not the eyes of Catherine Charon that looked back at them. Her eyes were faded, cloudy, and half-lidded, as if she were sleepwalking, but her stance showed nothing but alert tension. 

“Cat...no…” Joseph’s voice cracked as he started to fear the worst, but Catherine made no moves toward them. “Come on, kiddo. You’re too stubborn to let some bitch like Rhea do this to you!” Joe said, but still, Catherine did not move. He didn’t know why he had hoped it would work now when it hadn’t worked then. Joe swallowed his fear, hands adjusting on his warhammer as he tried to think of what to do. No one was moving, and Cat wasn’t speaking. He never thought he’d see the day he was sad Catherine had shut up. 

“Catherine, I’m gonna walk over, and you’re going to put the sword down, ok?” Fredrique said quietly, Catherine’s body nodded. 

“Reekee, do not fucking move. You have no idea who is in control of her, and we can’t risk her attacking us.” 

“Damn it Joe, if she was going to attack, she’d have attacked by now! She said yes, so for the love of the goddess I’m not standing around her till sunup waiting for someone to make a move.” Fredrique turned to step toward Catherine, but Joseph reached out, stepping forward and grabbing his husband by the arm, pulling him back toward him. 

That was exactly the opening their ‘visitor’ had been waiting for. 

Like a bolt, it sprinted toward the larger man, jumping over the small fire and charging at him with her blade, which now glowed bright orange with the power of her crest. Joe managed to push Fredrique away, out of the path of attack, and he just barely put the shaft of his hammer’s handle in the path of the strike. The heavy silver rod doing just enough to knock the blade away from his body, but Joseph felt it break in his hands, either side flying from his grasp as he stumbled backwards. 

Catherine’s body dropped its stance, an arrow zooming over its head as Fredrique quickly reached for another from his quiver. Thunderbrand swung down where Joseph had been mere seconds ago, to find the spot empty. The man in question let out a billowing cry as he swung the length of his hammer’s handle at his opponent’s head, but again, the body dropped and rolled out of the path of the attack. 

Catherine’s body twisted at an odd, unnatural angle, pushing itself back up and toward Joseph, knocking the second handle-swing aside as it charged forward, feigning left, and then following as Joe stepped to the right. The sickening, grizzly sound of tearing flesh as Thunderbrand’s blade struck home filled the air, the tip now jutted out of Joseph’s back. Catherine’s face held the same empty stare as she let the body drop off of her weapon. 

“JOE!” Fredrique screamed as he saw his husband coughing blood up into her beard weakly. Another shot was let loose from his bow, and this one just managed to miss. Catherine began walking toward him, and as he pulled another arrow out, he stepped back, firing it off as he retreated. But every step he took back, Catherine matched. The slowness of her steps were the most terrifying part. Catherine’s body, whoever was controlling it, was toying with him. 

Another shot, this one blocked by Thunderbrand, another step. Another shot, another miss, another step. Another shot, another miss, and a stumble. With that, Fredrique flopped back onto his ass, and Catherine was on him in a second. Fredrique managed to kick at her as she was leaping atop him, hitting her wrist and sending the blade flying, but that seemed to do little to slow her as her fingers wrapped around his throat. 

Fredrique fumbled, trying to pull her iron grip off of him, and when that failed, he began blindly reaching for something, anything that might save him. His hand landed on the arrow he had been pulling from his quiver when he fell, and once he managed to get a grip on it’s shaft, as the world started to go black around the edges, Fredrique swung his arm in, intent to bury the arrowhead in Catherine’s eyesocket. 

But movement is a messy thing when you’re choking to death, and all that he was able to manage was jamming it into the flesh on her brow and down, over her eye and part of her cheek. Blood flowed freely from the wounds, and it was clear Catherine’s eye was unaffected. But Fredrique did notice something as his world grew darker, Catherine’s eyes seemed to have come into focus, and while her grip was as sure as ever, he saw tears starting to form in her eyes. 

That was Catherine, that was the Cat he had followed all these years. While her hands held steady, and hope started to fade, Fredrique was at the very least thankful he got to see that Cat one last time. He grasped her wrists, trying to buy himself time, but it did little. He found himself trying to choke out some final words, not even sure if it’d be Cat that heard them. 

“Cat...I’m sorry… we couldn’t save you…”” The tears kept flowing down Cat’s cheeks, and there was an understanding in her eyes. He was thankful for that, as he reached up, brushing away one of her tears with his thumb. “I… don’t… blame you. Please… kill her” 

As Fredrique felt the last semblance of his tether to the mortal world begin to frey, he looked over as best he could to the now-clearly-dead body of his husband. Fredrique was at least thankful his Joey didn’t have to watch as his world faded to black, and then to nothing. 

Catherine was a prisoner. 

She watched as her body stood up from the body of her brother-in-arms, looking down at his face. It was twisted in fear and anguish, but there was a strange peace there. She felt the tears streaming down her cheeks, watched the blood from the wound over her eye pouring down the edges of her vision, and could only sit as a spectator to her own actions as she wandered to the blade laying in the dirt beside the fire. She watched as her hand moved to pick it up, against all the effort Catherine was putting into screaming at herself to never touch that sword again. But the bone handle filled her palm, slick with the blood of one of the three men in her life she had ever truly, honestly respected.

Now all three of them were dead. She had watched all three of them die. She had killed two of them. 

Then, with not even the pomp or circumstance to bury her family, Catherine began marching off into the dark of night. Her eye was still bleeding, but that seemed to do little to affect her as she walked, stepping mechanically through the trees and over roots. It was then that she started counting. 

1...2...3...4…

459...460...461…

6943...6944...6945…

It was exactly 19150 steps from the spot she had left those two to the place where her body was leading her, the front gate of Garreg Mach. 

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Ah, you’ve finally returned.” Rhea exclaimed as Catherine walked into her office without a word. Rhea stood and closed the door, locking it tight. “Oh my… you certainly got scraped up, pet.”She was looking at the gouge in the flesh around Catherine’s eye when the two made eye contact, and Rhea seemed to grow even more pleased. “Goddess be praised, you’re awake in there, aren’t you? Oh even better.” Rhea chuckled, it was a vile, creeping thing that seemed to pour down Catherine’s spine like ice cold water drawn from a stagnant pond. Catherine felt Rhea’s finger tease at the edges of the wound, her hand rested on her cheek almost affectionately. The touch made Catherine want to vomit. “It is such a comedic happenstance. Had the attack struck just a bit harder, it might have managed to cause enough pain to snap you from my touch entirely. But instead, it only managed to give you a front row seat. I suppose that reflects poorly on your skill as a leader, if your men could only ever land one weak hit on you. But, I’m certainly thankful.” Catherine wanted to scream, to cry, to puke and attack and kill her and die and run all at the same time. “Oh, Catherine, sweet, stupid Catherine. You are always so predictable when you get like this. You have tried a thousand times to escape this state, and yet every time it fails. It’s almost cute.” 

“Fuck...you.” Catherine choked out, her mouth clamping down, her own teeth digging into her tongue to the point she tasted blood as soon as it escaped. 

“Oh my, you really are putting up quite a fight. I suppose this time was a bit rougher than the last. But don’t get ahead of yourself, that will come in time. The goddess rewards those who labor, after all.” Rhea cooed, and her voice was so sweet it tasted like rat poison in Catherine’s ears. The Archbishop gestured, and Catherine walked over to her desk, stood right at the edge as Rhea moved behind her. Catherine felt the tie in her hair come undone as Rhea ran her fingers through the mess of blonde strands, not noticing or caring as she pulled apart chunka stuck together with dried blood, nearly pulling the hair from Catherine’s head.“I don’t know why I’ve allowed you to keep your hair up so often. It looks much better down. Oh well, another note for later. I suppose you have the same tired questions you always do.”

“Why…” Catherine choked out again, the word seeming a bit easier as pain shot through her tongue. 

“To put it simply, you serve a purpose. I am here to bring order to the chaos your kind calls life. You all scuttle about like beasts, fighting each other and tinkering away, trying to make yourselves feel above those who are clearly your betters. You, I simply gave a life above all the rest. You were an experiment, testing just how far I could toy with a mind without breaking it. I’ve had you wrapped around my pretty little finger from the minute I wanted you. I made you a weapon for the fight for good, a loyal, well trained hound where there was only a feral bitch before.” 

Catherine’s insides burned with hatred, and rage filled her veins as she tried to struggle to gain something, anything in the way of control over her own body. But all the hatred did little to stop her tears. 

“Oh, your crying is so heartbreaking to me.” Rhea said, for a moment seeming almost genuinely caring. “Such little reminders of how weak my grasp on your mind can be.” And like that it was gone. “Yet another mistake, like being so foolish as to let you defile my mother’s vessel as long as I did. Although I suppose I can’t be one to criticize much with regards to your ‘habits’. Considering how often I’ve partaken, as well as the fact I had lost hope on that blasphemous whore as just another failed vessel. I suppose there’s only so much I can loathe. I know this time has been especially draining, but I promise, your reward will be worth it. No sweetness is properly enjoyed without sacrifice.” the way Rhea’s finger dragged slowly up and down Catherine’s spine, going just a bit too low, digging in a bit too deep, made Catherine’s heart drop. With nothing but a nudge, Catherine bent forward, her hands now resting on the sides of the desk. “Your mind is always so much more pliable after I let you pleasure me.” Catherine felt ill. “But, before I return you to being my loyal pet, I have another order for you to carry out. Byleth and her ilk should be attacking in the next week. When they do, you will find Byleth and kill her, painfully, at that. I want you to break every bone in her body for daring to desecrate my mother and then do the same to that pining little bitch, Edelgard. Return to me with their corpses, and once you do so, I will even show you some kindness. I’ll take away all those painful memorie; of Fredrique, of Joseph, of Edelgard and Byleth. All of them, gone. I will give you that peace. Now go. Wait in your barracks until the time has come for your order. You may leave to get food and water every other day.” Like that, Catherine began walking away, just thankful to not be bent over the desk any longer. 

—————————————————————————-————————————————

Flayn had been walking to the main administrative building from the dormitories when she had seen Catherine walking in early that morning. The sun was barely up, and the campus was still almost entirely silent. Catherine walked into the main entryway, and the empty, hollow look in her eyes sent terror down Flayn’s spine. It was all too familiar. 

Father had promised her that Rhea never used that power outside of preventing battles among lords. It appeared he had lied.

Now she was standing in the hallway, peering at the entrance to the audience chamber and waiting for Catherine to step back out, praying to the goddess that she actually would. When she did, her eyes filled with horror and dread, Flayn knew she had to act quickly. 

Her powers were weak, compared to her aunt’s, but she had to try. She belted forward as soon as the doors were shut to the audience chamber, following Catherine down the staircase, managing to reach her right at the turn in the steps. 

“Catherine! Wait!” Flayn whispered, grabbing Catherine’s hand and pulling with all her might, mental and physical. 

For a moment, Catherine stopped, and Flayn saw a deep, choking inhale flow it’s way into Catherine’s chest, as the knight found herself in control of her own breathing for the first time in hours. She, however, was still not able to move her limbs. 

“Please, give me just a moment.” Flayn grunted, as if physically strained, yet she wasn’t actually pulling on Catherine’s arm anymore, just holding her hand. All the same, Catherine felt something warm slinking it’s way up her arm, through her very skin and into the back of her head. “I’m trying…” After however long had passed, seconds of minutes, Catherine remembered something. Rhea had mentioned pain, that enough of it could break whatever hold was over her. She felt her hand twitch, and realized she had some control over it as she began reaching for the blade slung over her back. It felt as if only some of her muscles were actually assisting in the motion, and her arm felt like an iron weight. “Yes! Yes! I think I’ve almost got it. I’ll get you free, and we can try to get you somewhere safe. Just make sure she doesn’t touch you. She may be powerful, but as long as she doesn’t touch you, you will have the chance to resist.” Flayn whispered, glee on her face as she felt something starting to wane, like a spool of metal wire slowly unwinding. Catherine had just managed to get her fingers around the hilt of the sword, but she found herself struggling to pull it from the complicated sheath that held it over her shoulder. She had almost gotten it free after it caught on one segment of the leather when a familiar voice filled the stairway. 

“Flayn!” Lord Seteth shouted down the stairwell, quickly storming toward her. “What in the goddess’s name are you doing harassing this woman in the middle of…” Seteth, at that moment, seemed to notice the stiffness in Catherine’s posture, the hand on her sword, and it seemed to click in his mind. He reached down, grabbing Flayn’s wrist and pulling her away from Catherine, whose entire body went right back to its rigid, mechanical state. “You have orders, I presume… return to them.” Seteth said quietly, not daring to match her eyes. Catherine wanted to scream, but merely returned to her march back to her barrack. 

“Wait! Catherine!” Flayn yelled openly, only for Seteth to drag her back up the stairs. 

“Quiet, Flayn.” He ordered, marching up another flight and a half of stairs and pulling her into an opened office. It was at that point that Flayn finally broke free, shoving Seteth away and not missing the fact he placed himself between her and the door. 

“Let me go. I am going to go help her!” Flayn demanded, stamping her foot on the ground. 

“Flayn, do not meddle in things you do not understand. It is foolish and it will get you hurt.” At first Flayn took it as a threat, but she saw more fear and shame in her father’s eyes than anger.

“How long has Rhea been puppeting that poor woman?! I saw in her mind, I saw flashes of the things Rhea has buried! She is utterly terrified! How long has this been going on!?”

“That is none of your business and none of your concern!”

“It is absolutely my concern if Aunt Rhea is toying with some poor woman and putting this damned power to her own wicked uses!” Flayn felt an old anger burning in her blood. “And you have sat aside and let this whole thing happen!?”

“The world is not so black and white Flayn! Were you a bit more mature you would know that.” Seteth said, having forgone the thought of subtlety, waving his hand and encasing the room in a silencing spell. 

“Where is the grey area for you, Father, to stand aside and not only ignore her as she uses Catherine, but to actively stop me from helping her!?” 

“Because I’m doing it to protect you!” Seteth said, desperation evident in his voice. 

“I don’t want your protection if that is the price!” 

“You have it, nonetheless! Now it would do you well to remember to whom and about whom you are speaking. I am not some villain, Flayn, I’m your father. I’ve done my best to help, where I can and where it does not put us at risk. I have been taking steps to ensure Sir Catherine is addressed properly, respectfully. I’ve ensured she is treated if she is injured. That she does not have to suffer more than is necessary.”

“You mean you make sure everything stays under the rug. Cover the wounds so she doesn’t start digging. Ensure her memories are rewritten so that she won’t start to piece everything together.” Flayn spat the accusation with venom more akin to a snake that that of the type of beast they shared blood with. 

“I do what I need to to protect you! To protect our family!” Seteth shouted. 

“Protect us from what!? Rhea is the biggest threat to us that I can see, and yet you sit here helping her do her most wicked deeds! Please, father, tell me what terrifying monster you are afraid of that this is seen as a preferable alternative!”Flayn let her full rage eb into her voice. Seteth went still, memories of long ago flooding his mind as he clenched his fist. 

He hated this, hated every moment of it since it had begun all those years ago. Yet he knew these sins would come to haunt him one day, he had just hoped it would not be so soon. 

“...We have so few of us left on this world. There are some things about family that you just have to learn to live with. Rhea may have some horrid habits, but I have lost your mother, as well as my own and so, so many others.I can only handle so much of it in one lifetime, no matter how long it may be! Do not mistake me, I abhor what is going on with Catherine, but some sacrifices must be made for the sake of our family.”

“That is easy for you to say when they aren’t your sacrifices to live with!” Flayn shouted, shoving the man in his stomach, barely affecting the tall lord. 

“You will not lecture me on the ways of this world, Flayn. I have sacrificed plenty in my own right! I will do what I need to to keep you and Rhea safe and alive.” 

“Do you intend to keep me and Rhea safe,or is your intent to keep me safe from Rhea?” Seteth paused, the anger that had crept into his eyes fading as it was replaced with fear, with guilt, with doubt. But, a moment later it was all replaced with a cold certainty.

“Come, Flayn. We are done with this conversation. I shall escort you to your chambers, where you will remain until we are ready to leave tomorrow night.”

“Leave? Tomorrow? What are you saying?!”

“The nearest imperial fort is distant enough we will have a week until they are ready to attack, perhaps even more. You, however, will be departing for a safe place, somewhere I should have sent you when all of this nonsense began.” Flayn felt his hand around her wrist, and held her ground. 

“I am not going anywhere with you.” Seteth was knocked a bit off of his stride by that. He’d heard Flayn yell before, that was expected enough. But for her to defy him so openly, so brazenly, was unlike her. 

“You will do as you’re told.” Seteth said bluntly, but still, the girl didn’t move. 

“Oh, so I might be just like you!?” That bit into a part of Seteth’s heart where all his fear and self-preservation could not protect him from his shame. 

“You are too young and immature to understand, I do the things I do for a reason. It may not be pleasant, or easy, but it is what must be done for the sake of this family, and all else be damned, I will ensure this family continues!” 

“If becoming like you is what ‘maturity’ counts as, then I'm thankful for sleeping as long as I did. You’re a coward, and I’m not going anywhere with you.” 

“You will do as you are told!” Seteth moved, intent to drag the stubborn girl out if that was what it took. She’d understand, some day. 

But still, she pulled back.

“I will do what is right!” As Seteth heard those words come from his own daughter’s mouth, he felt a shooting pain flow through him, and with it he was launched forward, his head crashing against a wooden beam in the wall, leaving him dazed and his vision blurry as he felt his strength slowly ebbing out of him. He’d been attacked with a Nosferatu spell, the feeling was as familiar as the back of his hand. His vision began to focus back in, and there he saw Flayn, her hands glowing white as she strode past him, pausing a moment to look at him as he tried to find words. The pity in her eyes silenced him as she stormed out. 

The tears started down Flayn’s cheeks around halfway down the stairs. By the time she had reached the campus, she was doing her best to hold her breathing in some sort of stable pattern, but it got more and more uncontrolled with each step. 

She had never stood up for herself like that before. It was at the same time so empowering, so utterly invigorating to know she had, for once in all these centuries, taken her life’s course into her own hands, but it was also so heartbreaking. 

Flayn felt the strangest sense of weakness. What would she do now? How could she stay here after knowing all of this? How could she leave knowing what was happening? Where would she even go? 

By the time her fist was pounding on the door to a very familiar dormitory, her breathing had devolved into weak, quiet sobs. When Mercedes opened the door, Flayn, for just a moment, let herself forget her fear, almost falling forward into Mercedes, feeling the woman stumble back just a bit, but wrap her in her arms nonetheless. 

She spent what felt like hours there, sobbing and not saying a word. At some point, Flayn realized Mercedes had begun stroking her hair, still standing rather awkwardly in the entryway to the room. A while later they simply sat on the ground, and Mercedes just let her continue sobbing into her blouse. 

After a while, Flayn was just too tired to cry. She lay there against Mercedes, who so patiently let her slowly come out of the haze of tears and emotions there on her dorm room floor, running her hand through the long curling green mass of Flayn’s hair. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” Mercedes asked. Flayn, now with her head in Mercedes lap, looked up at the woman. 

“I don’t think so… not right now.” 

“That’s ok.” Mercedes said quietly. It would have been, too, except that was when the first explosion hit, shaking the very foundation of their school. 

“Are you ready?” Byleth asked, standing beside Edelgard as they watched the forces of the Church, ambling aimlessly below them from their vantage point at the crest of the hill overlooking the Monastery. It had been Petra’s recommendation, something about having a ‘wonderful view of the campus’. 

“No. But it is happening all the same.” Edelgard muttered, toying at the hems of her armor. 

“You look lovely.” Byleth commented, earning a soft smile from the emperor. Edelgard was wearing a long, undeniably elegant red gown. It had no sleeves, but long lengths of fabric that held just a bit loose against her arms when they were extended out to the sides, and when her arms were relaxed, hung in loose loops of glimmering fabric. Her abdomen and chest were not only covered by cloth, but also a fine mesh of chain mail armor that seemed to shimmer in the light. Phlegon stood beside her, her own armor seeming to have been lightened significantly with chain mail and heavy leather where once there was platemail and steel. A dancer, and her mount, elegant yet ready to slaughter.

“I thank you, my Professor. I have been taking to the lessons I was given after the dance competition. It is rather exhilarating, if a bit nerve racking.” Edelgard remarked, looking over the campus as she tried to spot any sort of larger enforcement. “There is little need to have so much armor to take a hit if you are able to move enough to dodge it completely.” 

“But there is little need to dodge if you know your enemy’s weapons are ready to bounce off of you like pebbles off of a mountain. Although, I suppose my earlier remarks about that type of combat… seem a bit asinine, looking back. ” Byleth offered, adjusting the new weight on her shoulder. “I can not believe you really had the poor blacksmith up all night preparing this for me.” 

“You are the leader of the newly formed Black Eagle Strike Force. You need a mark of the title, and something to remind our troops you are not, in fact, the enemy.” Edelgard chided, slapping Byleth’s hand away from the large chest piece. Her tunic had been forgone, in favor of a shirt of soft silk dyed red, over which a similar shirt of chain mail sat. Over top of that, she wore a piece of armor made of heavy steel painted crimson, on the back of which sat the golden emblem of the Adrestian Empire. Her cloak had been abandoned, replaced with a cobalt blue sash tied around her waist. 

“That name is still ridiculous.” Byleth repeated for what must have been the hundredth time. “Just leave it as ‘Black Eagles’. ‘Strike Force’ makes it sound pretentious.” Edelgard rolled her eyes. 

“Now is not the time, Byleth.” 

“Perhaps. So, have you made your final observations?” Edelgard nodded. “Are you still intent to go about your plan?” Again, she nodded. 

“We will do this as best we can to reduce innocent casualties.” Edelgard affirmed. 

“At the cost of increasing our own.” Byleth added. 

“Is it better to live as a coward?” 

“No, but I prefer it to dying a martyr.” Byleth remarked. “But, I said I will follow you, and so I will.” 

“Good. Then signal Petra. She, Bernadetta, and Dorothea will send an attack to alert the enemy, and when they are gathered, we will make our offer, and they may take it, or leave it.” 

“You know how it will go.” 

“Of course. I’m no fool. No oppressor has ever ceded their power voluntarily. But that her men may see her mark her ambitions, her spite above their lives, that is not a thing they will easily forget.” Byleth nodded at Edelgard’s words, peaking around to assure their privacy for just a moment before stepping forward, pressing her lips against Edelgard’s. One last kiss before marching off to war. Byleth stepped back, thinking better of pressing her luck. 

“Then lead the way, My Emperor.” Byleth gestured, noticing a bit of red creep into Edelgard’s cheeks. Whether that was from the name, or the kiss, Byleth didn’t know, but she’d remember the name just in case. 

The signal was sent down as Byleth and Edelgard marched to the front lines . A moment later, the blast of several spell-infused arrows striking and bursting at once sent a shudder through the earth, and all hell seemed to break loose. 

A few minutes later, Byleth stood, a long wooden pole in hand on which flew the banner of the Adrestian Empire, and Edelgard, atop her mount, stood at the lead of the army. The Knights of Seiros, in all their strength, stood at the shattered entrance of Garreg Mach Monastery. The large walls that had held the front gate shut were left as little more than rubble on either side by the barrage that Petra, Dorothea, and Bernadetta had been able to rain down atop them. The entrance to the Monastery was wide open. 

“To all you who fight in the name of the goddess! I beseech you to lay down your arms, and walk away from this battle!” Edelgard, with some handy assistance of magical nature supplied by Hubert, shouted across the entirety of the campus. “The woman who leads you does not fight for the goddess, but for her own power. She has held our peoples, Empire, Kingdom, and Alliance alike, under her control for far too long. We must fight, united, against her and her ilk, not against each other! Lay down your arms, and no harm shall come to you.” 

There was silence across the battlefield, as an uneasy question rested atop the minds of both sides. 

Then the first volley of arrows from the Knights of Seiros let loose, and the battle began. 

Byleth buried the heft of the wooden flag pole into the ground, her arms tearing apart, reforming into her bone-and-muscle gauntlets. Soon after, both began glowing a bright orange. Byleth just prayed that the smaller units had made use of the distraction while they had the chance. 

Ashe ran like a woman fleeing the jaws of hell through the walkways of the Monastery, weaving around the various fleeing staff as she made her way to the stables. Her axe was bloody with the last remnants of several men who had made the poor mistake of standing between her and her wyvern. She had no intention of letting anyone stand in her way. She saw a knight shambling in his heavy armor, back to her as he was clearly moving to the frontlines of the fight. The smaller units that had broken off from the main force had sewn chaos into the entire campus, and clearly some people had yet to get that letter. 

Ashe ran a bit faster, catching up to the knight and swinging her axe into the back of his leg, sending him to the ground screaming. Another swing, and his screaming became much weaker and the back of his helmet dented in significantly. Another, final, swing, and he went silent as heavy streams of blood poured from the faceplate of his helmet. 

Another short sprint and Ashe was finally to the stables. There, in all her utter, terrifying beauty, was her Seteth. She saw recognition in the massive girl’s eyes as she kicked in the door barring the entrance, climbing through the splintered wood and quickly grabbing a saddle off the wall, moving to throw it over the scarred back she’d spent so much time sitting on. 

As she was just about to finish strapping it in place, a cry of ‘Hey you!’ Came from behind her. She fumbled for her axe, looking over her shoulder to see a knight with a blade charging her from outside, but before she could grab her own weapon, Seteth had taken the knight in her jaws, snapping his spine like a twig and throwing him aside. 

“Thanks, girl. I’m glad I can still count on you.” A long forked tongue raked across her face, and Ashe had to fight the urge to giggle at the familiar sign of affection. She threw her arms around Seteth’s neck, squeezing tight. She let go and finished strapping the saddle into place, climbed atop her mount, and the two charged out of the stable and then into the sky. 

“Flayn! Where are you going?!” Mercedes called as the woman seemed to be running without direction around the Monastery. They were a short distance from the Administrative building, and Flayn seemed to have no intent of slowing down. 

“We have to find Catherine!” Flayn shouted over the distant-yet-growing-closer sounds of chaos and battle. 

“But why?” 

“I have to!” Flayn shouted again, growing more desperate. Mercedes reached for Flayn’s hand, but she shrunk back, as if afraid of the touch. 

“Flayn, what is going on.” Mercedes asked, ducking at the sound of an especially loud explosion. “We need to find the rest of our class!” 

“I can’t! Not yet!” Flayn said, running off into the Administrative building, hoping Catherine might be somewhere in there. They rounded the stairs, pouring out onto the second floor, right at the entrance to the audience chamber, whose doors were thrown open, and the room was empty. 

“Damnit!” Flayn screamed, kicking the door and biting back even worse swear words as she tried to ignore the pain in her toe. 

“Flayn!” Mercedes gasped, not used to such outbursts from the young woman, even at her most upset. 

“Where could she have gone!?” Flayn asked no one in particular, fighting the urge to tear at her hair as she tried to think of anywhere else. 

“Why do you need to find Catherine? Flayn, what is going on?” Mercedes asked, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder, but again Flayn flinches back. “Flayn, what is the matter?” 

“I have to help her… I can’t leave her like that…” Flayn whispered, toying with her hands. “I’m not like her. I’ll never be like her.” The voice became more biting, and Mercedes could feel the target of Flayn’s muttering change. 

“Get back!” A familiar woman’s voice called as the two girls both turned to look up the hall. A booming explosion came from the direction of Manuela’s office, and Flayn and Mercedes moved to aid their professor. 

Catherine marched through the carnage of battle, Thunderbrand in hand, as her body searched for people her mind begged the goddess that she would never see again, if it would keep them safe. She felt her body duck out of the path of a charging lancer, knocking the spear aside with her weapon before kicking the poor man’s leg out, burying her blade into his throat. He never stood a chance. Neither had the half-a-dozen other men who had fallen dead similarly as they had foolishly stood in her way. 

Goddess, she was so covered in blood, whether her own which was dried on her face, or that of those men who she had slain, starting with Joseph. At least she assumed it started with him, but regardless, it now included that poor lancer. 

There was a heavy thud, and the earth shook around Catherine as she felt her body turn to face that sound. The sight of what it was made Catherine’s heart break that much more. Thoughts ran through her mind like screams. ‘No, Ashe, run! Please, kiddo, goddess, just run! Leave!’ But the words never left her lips, and she only stood staring as Ashe held her bow, arrow in hand but thankfully not drawn. 

“So. Here you are, betraying everyone you consider a friend for nothing, again. How does it feel, knowing that everyone gets to see you be the coward Lonato knew you were?” 

Catherine didn’t reply. 

“I trusted you, you know that?” Ashe asked, her words were so quiet Catherine strained to hear them. She let out a chuckle, laughing at a joke Catherine couldn’t see. “I thought I could forgive you...forget what you had done to my family… You want to know the saddest part? I thought of you as my family in some sick, twisted way. But no, now I see exactly how it is.” Ashe’s voice has shifted from the quiet lamentation, and now she spoke through grit teeth, not wanting to let Catherine see her cry. “Here you are again, throwing me and everyone else away, and for what?! for Rhea!? You told me if you regretted that day, you’d have to turn your back on everything you had, everything you’d built. Well look around, Catherine!” Ashe gestured around her, to the blood soaked, burning remnants of the Monastery. “The entire class sees you for the traitor you are, and we’re tearing absolutely everything down. Your cowardice has left you with exactly what you most feared, NOTHING!” Ashe pulled the bowstring back, aiming at Catherine, and the woman just prayed the strike hit true. Her body was soaked in enough blood, Ashe’s atop it all would weigh too much. It would crush her entire soul, if not her physical body. 

“Ashe.” A familiar voice rang out, and Catherine could only scream internally even louder. “Leave. This is not your fight.” 

“Bullshit!” Ashe screamed, not moving her eyes from Catherine. 

“Ashe, that is an order!” Byleth growled, and the wyvern rider slowly let her bowstring move forward, placing the arrow back in her quiver. 

“Fine… I have better things to do with my time than put down a traitor like her.” Ashe spat as she guided Seteth back toward the sky. 

“Cat…” Byleth whispered as Catherine turned to face her. “Baby, please don’t make me do this. You don’t have to fight for us, but you can walk away.” Byleth gestured toward the woods in the distance, but Catherine didn’t look. “...I’m sorry, Cat. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

Catherine’s body moved forward, Thunderbrand at the ready, and the two women collided. Byleth blocked Thunderbrand with one of her gauntlets, landing a restrained jab to Catherine’s ribs right off the bat, knocking the wind from her lungs and connecting with a solid crack. Catherine’s body stepped back, yanking her sword free and running forward, intent to impale Byleth in the blade. 

Byleth dodged out of the way of the strike, digging her claw-like-fingers into the ground to keep her balance. She launched forward, swinging her leg around to kick her partner, or former partner, or whatever it was she was to her’s legs out from under her, but Catherine leapt up, landing one of her boots on Byleth’s leg with a large amount of her body weight behind the strike. Byleth felt a sharp crack, and screamed as she managed to push Catherine off of her. Leaping back up, wincing at the pain that shot through her as she tried to put a bit too much weight on the injured leg. 

Catherine charged, Thunderbrand glowing bright with the energy of her crest. She felt the energy being forcefully pulled from her as her body moved, and she watched as Byleth’s gauntlets did the same, reaching out and grabbing at two of the spikes on the side of the blade. The first spikes she grabbed, the ones at the very end of the sword, broke off from the shear force of the strike.

She managed to grasp the second set and force the blade not only away from her body, but out of Catherine’s grip entirely. She wrenched the weapon free, landing a heavy knee to Catherine’s ribcage and a headbut into her skull. As she stumbled back, Catherine noticed she had some sort of control over herself, but still, she wasn’t quite free. Her body seemed to be fighting her, but there was the slightest twitch in her arm when she willed it to move. Byleth didn’t let her retreat for long, snapping the two spikes in her grasp of the blade before tossing the relic aside as she went in for a follow up cross, but Catherine’s body managed to block that, flailing out with a sloppy cross of her own.

Byleth felt the fist smash into her shoulder, but thankfully the knight seemed to not have her full strength behind it. Whether that was consideration or being dazed Byleth didn’t know or care. Pulled punches, sloppy elbows, desperate knees and kicks flew back and forth with no end in sight. Byleth managed to get ahold of the knight’s arm, catching it after dodging a shoddy elbow that almost seemed as if it had been intentionally yanked off course, launching an elbow out that knocked the wind from Catherine yet again as it lodged in her stomach. The knight landed a few solid punches to Byleth’s side, and the professor responded with a knee to her stomach, before she used the leverage to throw the woman over her shoulder onto the ground. Catherine landed with a loud thud, and Byleth pressed her knee to the knights chest, pinning her down. 

Catherine didn’t realize what was going on until the pain registered. She hadn’t seen Byleth pull her short sword loose from its scabbard, as she’d been more intent on trying to finally get control over her mouth back. She was just about able to when she felt her arm explode with pain, Byleth’s blade buried into it, pinning her to the ground. 

The scream that left Catherine’s lips at that moment was the most bittersweet she’d ever let loose. One drawn from her by a woman she cared for, but at the same time the first sound she made of her own volition in nearly 24 hours. She still couldn’t make words, but whether that was by Rhea’s doing or the pain, she had no idea. She felt a drop fall onto her face, and looked up into the crying eyes of her once-partner. 

“I don’t want to kill you, Cat...baby...I can’t.” She choked out, looking down at the knight, leaning forward, as if she were resting her head on Catherine’s shoulder, and the night heard the staggered, stunted breathing that always came when Byleth cried. She could only whimper in pain as Byleth leaned up, pressing her lips to her forehead. “I can’t lose you too...Please...just stay down.” Byleth stood, wandering off toward some other part of the fight, her sword still pinning Catherine down. 

Byleth marched forward, dodging out of the way of a knight as he charged her, a sword raised over his head. Byleth knocked the blade aside, landing a punch to his abdomen and sending him stumbling back. Another knight joined the fray, Byleth felt the blade of his lance glance off of her shoulder, knocking her off balance but thankfully not piercing her armor. Byleth wasn’t, however, able to avoid the first knight’s follow up attack, which left a rather intense gash down her thigh. As he went for a third strike, one gauntlet-clad hand grabbed the blade mid-swing, pushing it up and forcing the knight to extend just a bit too far, while her other hand dragged her long sharp fingers across his now-exposed stomach, spilling his insides onto the cobblestone street below them. 

The lancer came to avenge his fallen comrade, only to have his legs swept out from underneath him, and a moment later he felt sharp, talon-like fingers grasping him by the throat, and then his throat was gone. He spent the last moments of his life choking on his own blood, staring into a sky slowly filling with the smoke of his burning home. 

Byleth marched through the slowly dwindling forces of the Knights of Seiros, assisting a bit here and there to help cull the ranks. But her final target was always on her mind. She was tasked with, as Edelgard had put it, ‘cutting off the head of the snake so the body my flounder’. Her mission was Rhea, and Byleth could see that familiar head of green hair stood toward the back of the forces, stood at the front steps of the Cathedral, overlooking the long bridge connecting it to campus and watching the battle play out as if she had not a care in the world. Byleth leapt forward smashing through the last line of knights until she stood there, staring down Rhea, an injured Seteth beside her on an aged looking wyvern. 

“So, the deceiver dares to show her face on these hallowed grounds? Dares to rain chaos upon the student’s and servants of the goddess in her petty pursuit of power? Bold, or foolish. Either way, you vile demon, I’ll repay you in kind for defiling my mother, defiling her relic, and defiling this holy Mona-”

“Shut up and die!” Byleth screamed, charging forward with her fists at the ready. She was beyond done with this woman. Her voice made Byleth’s skin crawl and she wanted nothing more than to gut her and let this war be done. Unfortunately, it seemed Seteth had other intentions, his aged wyvern swooping down and attempting to grab her by her shoulders. She just- managed to avoid his grasp, only to feel the strength drain from her, as she looked to see the pale glow of a Nosferatu blast fading from Rhea’s hands. 

Byleth scrambled to regain her momentum, throwing herself into a punch that Rhea barely managed to avoid, sending another draining spell into Byleth’s body followed by a swift punch to her stomach, sending Byleth rolling onto the ground, panting for air. She hefted herself up, barely rolling forward in time to avoid a strike from Seteth’s lance. 

Rhea was visibly readying another spell when Byleth finally managed to land a hit. Her claw dug into the skin of Rhea’s cheek, tearing the flesh open in three long, jagged lines that sent blood dripping down her chest. Byleth wheeled around, ready for another attack, only for Seteth’s beast to finally manage to grab her, heaving her into the sky and throwing her through the masonry of the Cathedral. A monstrous voice rang out. 

“You demon! Deceiver! Heretical whore!” It bellowed from Rhea’s lips. The green-haired woman’s eyes glowed a deep, bloody red that almost seemed to drain the light from the world around her. Her cheek was sliced open, revealing those rows of long, jagged teeth. 

Byleth heard the foul screeching of Rhea’s voice as she was crawling out of the rubble of the shattered church wall, thankful that she seemed to have avoided too many fractures and breaks, even if standing up again did hurt like a son of a bitch. She tried to find something, some sort of healing potion that might help her patch herself up, hearing that demonic squawking yet again.

“Rhea! Please, you must contain yourself!” Seteth pleaded from atop his mount, leaping down, trying to help placate the woman. “We can not do that here.” He whispered, trying desperately to mend the wound on her face. She knocked him aside as if he were nothing but a balloon. 

“NO! She dies! She will pay for daring to defy me!” Rhea’s nails were now long, sharp claws, and Seteth felt truly terrified. Those only came out when she was truly beyond reason, abandoning all logic and sense in pursuit of her own whim. Seteth saw her body begin to shift, to change, and he feared for the worst. 

Catherine spent a long while there on the ground, death cascading around her like the waves of an ocean crawling ever closer, intent to swallow her and drowned her where she lay. But, that never seemed to come. After a while, she lifted her non-impaled arm, looking at it as she formed a fist. She had control. Total control. It seemed that of all her deciets, Lady Rhea...Rhea, had not been lying about pain breaking her hold. Catherine made sure to remember that. 

She moved to try and escape the bloodshed around her. With her unpinned hand reaching up and dragging the blade from her. She began screaming anew as she felt the edges of the wound tear wider, but soon the blade was free, and with it so was she. She crawled to a kneeling position and bowed her head down as she looked at herself, bloody short-sword in one hand, the other hanging limply, covered in blood.

It was the site of the crest she wore on her chest plate that made her go rigid. The Crest of Seiros, the emblem of the Archbishop herself. Catherine took the blade in her hand, quickly cutting the leather straps that held her armor in place and casting it aside, now unprotected across almost the entirety of her chest, but death was preferable to wearing that woman’s seal on her body. She noticed the bloody, hanging strands of her still-loose hair, and the feeling of Lady Rhea… Rhea running her hand through it made Catherine want to be ill. She took her injured arm, ignoring the pain, and gathered her hair up in her fist, pulling it back and, with the blade of the shortsword, chopped all but a few loose inches of hair free from her head. The long, bloody length of hair dropped to the ground like some sort of bloody sacrifice. 

Injured arm clung close to her chest, Catherine moved to the Monastery. With all the fear tearing at her insides, telling her to flee, she moved with her best judgement to try and search for a healing item, so she might not die of blood loss before she could escape. Every few seconds, she would move her injured limb, letting the shooting pain be a reminder of her peace, her safety. 

“You, boy! There’s no order for retreat. Move back to the front line!” A stern voice called. Catherine turned, some pompous ass of a knight commander marching towards her, seemingly not recognizing her beneath all the blood and gore and lacking her armor or hair. “Where in the hell did your chest piece go, squire?! Get back to the line!” the man commanded, grabbing her by the injured arm. 

The touch made Catherine’s eyes go wide. ‘Do not let her touch you’ rang through her mind like an echoed scream. Without thinking, the shortsword in her hand seung out and dragged a long bloody line across his neck, leaving him gasping through his own blood. Someone seemed to notice, as cries of ‘traitor!’ rang out, and soon men who had once been her allies charged her, ready to kill. Catherine cut through them like a woman possessed, only this time, her lack of mercy was her own choice. 

It was a choice she utterly reveled in. 

She knew this was her, because there was no way that damned creature could order her to do such things to someone who was on the side of the church. Catherine lashed out, driving the short sword into a brawler’s throat and wrenching it to the side, tearing an entire half of his neck open as blood poured out of him like a fountain. A mage cast a blast into her back, the fire burning her skin in a way that only reminded her more she was her own.

That mage tried to back away when Catherine faced him, still burning. He tried to run, tried to escape, but the blade sliced open the back of his leg, sending him sprawling onto the ground. It was a fraction of a second before he felt fingers in his hair, wrenching his head backward before a blade slit his throat from ear to ear. 

Catherine moved without thinking, one instinct setting her on a course that would change her life.

“Flayn. I have to find Flayn.” Catherine whispered to herself like a prayer to a dying god who cared not for her, and had not cared for so long it was a curiosity if they ever did. The bloody blade was clenched in her hand, that god's holy symbol, the pain in her arm acting as her communion.

It was all in tribute to the one heaven she could hope for, one in which she was free, herself, as she cut open every man who served that vile woman, proving more and more each kill that Rhea did not, could not control her. She would do everything in her power to leave the Knights of Seiros nothing more than a bloody smear on history, and in doing her best to keep her word, it was a blood-red path she carved through the Monastery that day. 

Edelgard dropped out of the path of a lance strike, lithely swinging her hand-axe up and knocking the weapon away before continuing the spin, allowing her arm to extend out, cracking the knight’s ribs with her axe, all the momentum in her swing boosted by the motion of her dance. An elegant step, and edelgard buried the axe head into her opponents throat. The man dropped dead, next to the three others she had faced thus far as she heard the screaming of that monstrous woman’s voice from across the battlefield. 

Edelgar whistled, and Phlegon abandoned the knight she had been knawing on like a chew toy to gallop toward her. Grabbing the handle of the saddle, Edelgard deftly leapt into her position atop the mount and moved to hunt the source of that horrid screech down. She knew wherever that woman was, Byleth was likely to be as well. The grace with which Phlegon glided through the battlefield was unparalleled, the hail of arrows and various spells not coming anywhere near them as Edelgard guided the reins and Phlegon followed the wind. One lance wielder thought to lob his weapon at them, but with a flick of her wrist, Edelgard guided Phlegon in a roll through the air, her wings wrapping around the both of them protectively before the weapon passed by, missing them by feet that might as well have been miles. 

When they came out of the spin, they landed at the very end of the bridge leading to the grand cathedral that overlooked Garreg Mach. At the other end of the bridge stood a bloodied, rage-filled Rhea. Her back was to Edelgard, but before the Emperor could take proper advantage of that, she saw Byleth walking out of the crumbling entrance to the Cathedral, and Rhea seemed to throw her head back, a monstrous roar spewing from her that shook Edelgard’s very bones as the woman seemed to shift, her arms elongating, splitting and spreading , a sickly greenish flesh crawling over them. Something similar happened to her neck, the vertebrae visibly snapping apart, growing, extending, and her face elongating into a twisted snout with all those vile teeth on full display. Long, vile bat-like wings extended out from her back, that same sickly green flesh stretching taught between the finger-like bones that make the structure. Another screech came from the creature, now in the form of a dragon easily as tall as the church it stood before. 

A massive blast of energy flew from the monstrous beast, nearly smashing into Byleth were she not so quick as to move out of it’s way. Another blast followed as soon as she had landed, however, and it seemed this one struck true. So true that Edelgard had to watch as it connected with the red steel of Byleth’s chest piece, launching her back, over the edge of the cliff and into the black abyss of the canyon below. She tried to goad Phlegon to catch her, and the wyvern moved as quickly as she could, throwing them both down into the ravine after the instructor, but even when they reached the bottom, they did not find her. All there was was the rushing water of the river that had carved the structure that now seemed to have swallowed Edelgard’s partner and teacher from the very fabric of the world. 

Edelgard guided Phlegon back to the bridge, rage burning her insides like a vile acid she intended to use to rend the flesh from Rhea’s sick, inhuman bones. But when she flew out of the maw of the canyon, her axe glowing at the ready, she saw that same dragon now having taken flight, soaring far higher and faster than she had ever seen a beast of that size go. Seteth seemed to be keeping well enough speed atop his wyvern, but even then Edelgard knew she wouldn’t catch them, not with how exhausted Phlegon already seemed. 

The approaching mass of Adrestian soldiers gave a sign of why Rhea had fled. With all her might, an entire army was something that would put strain on even her. 

Manuela stood over a dying knight’s form, her magic already exhausted as she tried to hold him in the land of the living, but after another moment he faded out of even her ability to save. 

“Professor, I’m so sorry, but they’ve all passed.” Mercedes said meekly, tears in her eyes as she looked at the several men lying dead in Manuela’s makeshift infirmary. 

“It’s ok, dears, you both have tried your best.” Manuela tried to console, both Mercedes and Flayn had been there for over an hour, helping her try to patch up knights that made it to them, but all seemed too far gone before they even gotten there. Flayn was rather stoic, seemingly used to death to an extent that Manuela found unsettling. She hadn’t seen that in anyone outside of the children of warzones, but Fodlan hadn’t seen a major war in centuries. 

A loud crash rang through the room, and they turned to see several knights, seemingly uninjured. 

“What is your business here, men?” Manuela asked. “My time is valuable, and you don’t seem to require it.” 

“Pardon, Professor, but we are here by order of lord Seteth. There has been a call for a full retreat. The empire has overtaken us, and we are to regroup outside of the Monastery.” 

“Retreat?” Flayn asked, her hand twitching. “What is the status of the Archbishop?” 

“Lady Rhea is safe, Lady Flayn.” the lead of the knights said clearly. “We will be taking all staff and locatable students to her and lord Seteth at once via a tunnel beneath the school. We have to move quickly.” Flayn swallowed, clenching her hand into a fist. 

“What of Lady Catherine.” 

“Sir Catherine was last seen on the battlefield, and is believed to have turned against the Church. Do not worry, we will ensure your safety.” The knight assured.

“I have no intention of leaving. Take the others as they wish but I will be staying.” Mercdes looked as if she had lost her mind. Flayn wondered if maybe she had, but she would not walk willingly back into that horrors nest that had been hiding as her family for so long. 

“Flayn, please you’re not making sense.” Mercedes said, reaching out to touch her cheek, but Flayn stepped away. She couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk the energy of her blood doing to Mercedes what Rhea had done to Catherine, even if only subtly. 

“Lady Flayn, please, we are under orders to collect you from Lord Seteth himself.” The knight was walking forward as he spoke, and Flayn felt her hair stand on end as she saw the threat in his stance. The two knights behind him seemed focused on Flayn, leaving the other two women in the room confused, missing parts of the puzzle coming together in front of them. 

But that distraction was exactly what left them open to the attack that came behind them. No one in the room saw what happened to the first knight, only that suddenly the room was filled with screaming and a severed head rolling in lazily. The next knight, however, all three other women in attendance were able to watch as Catherine tackled him to the ground, pinning one arm above his head and burying her blade into his stomach, dragging the blade to the side and sending his insides splaying out across the floor. The final knight moved to attack her as she stood from his comrade’s corpse, but Mercedes and Manuela both saw him fall down dead before he even reached her.

It took them a moment to notice the white glow coming from Flayn’s hands, the unmistakable look of a draining spell taking hold. 

“Flayn! What did you do!?” Mercedes yelled, horrified as she looked between the woman and the corpse. Flayn seemed to ignore her, however, moving to Catherine instantly. 

“Are you ok!?” Flayn asked, approaching Catherine slowly, hands up and away from the clearly petrified woman. Catherine’s uninjured arm moved, her hand that still clenched the blade’s handle pressing a thumb into the massive bleeding wound in her forearm, grunting at the pain. 

“What do you think you’re doing!?” Manuela asked, storming toward Catherine, hands glowing as she reached out to grab her arm and heal it. She recoiled as the blade cut open the palm of her hand. Catherine seemed to cower back, shortsword pointed at Manuela with a shaking grip that mirrored the shakes racking her body. 

She looked like a child hiding in the corner from a dog that had bitten her.

“D..Don’t fucking touch me!” Catherine screamed, a horse, inhuman thing that didn’t match at all with the strong woman Manuela had known. 

“Catherine, it’s ok, you’re safe.” Flayn tried to assure. Catherine didn’t point her blade at Flayn as she stepped closer. 

“Nowhere is safe. Nothing is safe.” Catherine said weakly. “No one is safe. Not from me.” the blade fell to the ground, Catherine moving both of her hands into her hair as she began sobbing. “I… Goddess what have I done. Joe, Freddy, they were my friends, my fucking family! And I killed them. I killed them…” 

“Nobody move!” Everyone in the room turned to see Leonie at the lead of almost a dozen armed knights. Catherine hadn’t even seen who it was when she lunged for her sword, she had just heard armored footsteps and gone on the offensive, but before she got near it, she fell to the ground unconscious. Everyone turned to see Manuela raising her arms into the air, one hand glowing softly with the white light of a faith spell. 

“We’ll go peacefully, miss Pinelli.” Manuela said, confident in the fact she’d just saved that woman’s life. 

That night, Garreg Mach Monastery flew a red banner, and a massive feast was held in the dining hall as a celebration of their victory. But there was one person suspiciously absent from the festivities. 

Edelgard walked up the halls of the Administrative Building, a plate in hand. Her steps echoed through the dark, unoccupied halls as she faried the dinner from the dining hall to one of the offices on the third floor that had been converted into a medical bay to help tend to their wounded. 

Flayn and Manuela, strangely enough, had been more than enthusiastic to aid the Empire in their troops' treatment, Mercedes however was less so, but she was not trying to kill them, so that was something. Edelgard knew she would need to speak with all of them, to tell them of the situation of the war and give them a choice in who they would fight for. She would need to have the same talk with the scattered others that had found themselves stranded or abandoned in the Monastery when all had been said and done. There was Marianne of the Alliance, as well as Lysithea. Edelgard knew the second much better than the first, but that would not play well to her favor, in this instance. Of that, Edelgard was most certain. 

The entire third floor had been retrofitted into a makeshift infirmary, but the office Edelgard entered was different. It was a single occupant room. 

She knocked on the door, hearing no reply, and entered to see a dark room barely lit by the slowly fading sunlight. There was just enough to see a form on a bed toward the back of the room, and a pair of sky blue eyes stared at Edelgard from that form.

“I thought you might appreciate a proper meal.” Edelgard said quietly, walking over to the side table and setting the plate just within Catherine’s reach, but ensuring she did not step with that same reach.

“Thanks, Edelgard…” Catherine said, her voice horse and worn down. She reached out, grabbing the thin board plate slowly. The empress looked at her for a long moment. 

“I hope your bindings are not too tight.” Edelgard said, looking to the chain on Catherine’s wrist. The skin around it was already raw, much more so than it should have been naturally in such a short period. 

“No. Quite the opposite. You ought to have them tightened in case I try to break loose.” Catherine muttered without an ounce of humor as she tore into a chunk of steak with her bare hands. Edelgard managed to convince Hubert a thin wooden plate was safe enough, but something like a knife was never going to be plausible. 

“You don’t strike me as the type to say something like that if you actually intended to escape.” Edelgard said, trying to relieve the strange tension of the room, but then again how could this situation not be tense. 

“It’s not me you have to worry about.” Catherine whispered to herself, tearing into the steak again as she reached up with one unchained hand, rubbing the long scar that had formed across her brow and cheek. “Who did it… the healing?” 

“Flayn. She insisted on it. Was absolutely adamant that no one else come near you.” Edelgard said, and a small bit of pressure seemed to fall from Catherine’s shoulders. 

“Ok. That’s... that’s good. Was she the one who brought me here?” Edelgard shook her head. 

“No. You were too heavy, and when you awoke the first time you were so violent that I didn’t feel right trying to send her off alone.” It seemed that had been an answer Catherine had been hoping not to hear. 

“Ok. So the guards carried me then.” 

“Yes, several.” 

“Good to know.” Catherine seemed to come to some sort of conclusion that passed over Edelgard’s head. 

“Would you care to tell me why?” Edelgard asked, an eyebrow raised as she looked at Catherine, noticing that her eyes always seemed to be looking, for what, she wasn’t sure. They bounced around the room, occasionally meeting Edelgard’s, but just as quickly moving to the door, the window, the small closet, and other seemingly random spots. 

“No.” Catherine popped the last chunk of steak into her mouth. 

“And why is that?” Catherine seemed to shake the chain then, an angry glower falling across her face, and Edelgard realized she wasn’t shaking the chain, she was simply shaking that violently in her own right. 

“Because it’s none of your fucking buisiness!” The almost imperceptible flinch Edelgard made at her outburst seemed to completely reverse the woman’s course emotionally. “I’m… I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” Catherine took a deep breath, for a moment looking up to meet Edelgard’s eyes. “Why am I here?” 

“Because you threatened a healer at blade-point, and almost attacked an armed battalion of soldiers. You were seen on the battlefield killing Knights of Seiros, so that earned you a bit of good will with many in my command as well as some rank and file than you would have had otherwise, but until we have seen you’re not a threat to anyone else, you will be kept here in this medical chamber. From there, we can see about letting you take a room in one of the dormitories, and from there you are to remain here on the Monastery until the culmination of this war.” Edelgard explained as if she had rehearsed the pitch, which of course she had. 

“...Why?” Catherine asked, Edelgard looked at her as if she were stupid. 

“I just said, you-”

“I meant ‘why did you let me live in the first place’.” Catherine cut her off, chastising as opposed to thankful. 

“I…” 

“It was a stupid, reckless decision. I expected better from you.” Catherine continued. “And for you to come here, unguarded with nothing but a wooden bedframe and a chain between yourself and an enemy prisoner? Utterly, unbelievably stupid. You are the leader of a nation at war, damnit, you need to be more careful with-” 

“Enough!” Edelgard ordered, drawing silence instantly, along with a shockingly unhidden air of fear from the woman’s eyes. “I will not have you, of all people, question me for keeping you alive. You are someone I considered a friend at one time, and still would like to. I don’t think I could look Byleth, nor my own reflection, in the eye if I left you to die.” Edelgard said bluntly, her tone that of an Emperor, not some student. 

“It’s hard to look a missing woman in the eye, either way. Isn’t it?” Catherine muttered, her face stuck somewhere between a deadpan and a scowl. 

“How-” 

“Your guards are fuck-aweful at whispering. I’ve heard almost every report and chat session between them since I woke up.” Edelgard felt a bitter venom rise in her throat at the almost lackadaisical way Catherine discussed the topic. 

“I’m surprised that you even care.” Edelgard spat, regretting it less than a second later. The sound of straining chain filled the room, Catherine’s arm pulled against her bindings, her expression one of pure rage. 

“Of course I fucking care! I lo-” the word seemed to catch in Catherine’s throat, as if she were about to vomit it across her bed. But, Edelgard heard enough to feel that bitter venom rising higher within her. 

“Love? Is that what you intended to say? That is such a twisted sense of love as I’ve ever seen, and believe me when I say I have quite the frame of reference! You sided with a church who demanded the woman you supposedly ‘loved’s head! You marched to war against her!” Edelgard scowled at the woman who only strained against her chain more. 

“I was never intent on dying for that woman! I didn’t have a choice!” Catherine’s voice broke, from a wrathful yell into a weak, wilted whimper. All strength seemed to drain from her, as the angry, chain-straining knight collapsed into a scared girl, clutching her hair as she pulled her knees to her chest. 

“What do you mean, Catherine?” Edelgard asked, quietly, stepping closer to the girl. 

“...Nothing. Forget it. ” Catherine said, not meeting Edelgard’s eye. 

“Fine. Then I will leave you be for the night. Clearly, this was a mistake.” Edelgard said, turning to face the door. 

“Wait!” She paused, turning to Catherine again. “I… I know there isn’t much room for me to ask things of you. But, I have no other choice.” 

“What is it?” 

“To the south west, just over 19 hundred steps from the front gate, there’s a clearing… Joseph and Fredrique are dead, and they’re there. They’ve been out there for about a day now, and, well, they deserve a proper burial. Not to rot like that. I know, they’re knights, but they were running from the church, they were trying to join you. Please…” Catherine felt her voice crack. “Please, just let them have a proper burial together.” Edelgard sighed, biting her cheek and looking at the faded blue of Catherine’s eyes. Even ignoring the scar, there was nothing in there that Edelgard recognized as Thunder Catherine. 

“Fine.” Edelgard said, rubbing her temples. “Fine. I’ll send scouts out in the morning. If what you say is true, then they should be returned within a day and a half.” 

“Thank you, Edelgard.” Catherine said, and the Emperor found herself shocked at how strange it was to hear Catherine actually say her proper name. In a sick sense, she missed the nickname. She moved to leave, but paused for a moment. 

“You said they were coming to join us… were you with them?” 

“No.” Catherine whispered back. “I was the one who killed them.” Edelgard went white at the strange emptiness in Catherine’s voice as she said that. She looked up, meeting Edelgard’s eyes again, staring her down as the last words of that night flowed from her lips. “Edelgard...I hope you know I’m rooting for you. Please, kill the bitch and make it painful.” Edelgard nodded, and stepped out, closing the door behind her. 

Byleth felt herself floating on a strange, familiar, inky blackness, drifting along without any sense of time, of self, of anything really. She felt as if she were floating atop a pitch black ocean in the dead of night, an empty, starless, moonless night where sky and abyss were imperceptible in their differences, but similarly endless before her. 

It was strangely peaceful, floating in that abyss again, and Byleth felt that strange sensation of being unsure if she were awake, asleep, some transitional state between, or none of the above as she lay there, and yet at the same time floated along in the peaceful nothingness. She tried to remember how she had gotten there, but nothing came. 

She felt something move, just the slightest vibration that in the absence of all else felt like a warhammer strike. A moment later, or perhaps hours later, Byleth felt something wrap around her leg, or several small flat lengths linked together in a chain. The ‘something’ pulled taught, and suddenly she was being pulled down into the abyss, or perhaps up into the sky, or off to some distant coast. She knew not where she was going, but she knew she was being taken there whether she wanted to or not. 

“Lady Edelgard.” Hubert said quietly, walking into the large room that had been converted into Edelgard’s office for the foreseeable future. He saw her turn, eyes lined with deep bags and a few tears it seemed she had failed to hide in time. “I brought what you had requested.” He said, raising the small tray in his hand, a still-steaming teapot and a glass, with a small plate of sweetbreads on the side. 

“I only asked for the tea.” Edelgard pointed out. 

“True, but you left the dining hall before your dinner, and I did not see you return. I thought perhaps the sweets might at least put something in your stomach.” Hubert said, walking over and setting the tray on the small desk she was sat, covering her several opened, half written forms, letters, and sheets of paperwork. “Please, Lady Edelgard, take some time, and then rest. That can wait till the morning.” 

“I suppose you have a point, Hubert.” Edelgard said, nodding in thanks as he looked down, a small attempt at a reassuring smile on his tired face. His gloved hand rested on her shoulder, giving the slightest squeeze of reassurance. 

“We will find her, Lady Edelgard.” 

“I pray so.” She said quietly. “Now please, let me relax before I rest. 

“Of course.” He said with a bow before leaving. Edelgard sighed and poured a glass of tea, the steam pouring off feeling pleasant against her face, which had spent all day battered by the early spring wind. She lifted the top of the teapot off, allowing more to escape into the room as she put the glass to her mouth, taking a moment to inhale the familiar, calming scent. 

Lavender tea. Not a flavor she particularly enjoyed the taste of, but the scent of it was more soothing than a hundred cups of bergamot, even if it was missing the scent of soil and salt, it was close enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so welcome to the evil shit I’ve had planned from like, chapter 5. I hope it was as emotionally traumatizing to read as it was to write!!! 
> 
> I wanna hear y’all’s predictions about what the hell is gonna happen, with like, literally anything. Lemme hear your thoughts cus I’m not gonna lie I’m nervous as fuck posting this update lmao. 
> 
> We’ve got 2 or 3 chapters with some pretty heavy angst coming up, but I promise there’s some kind of happy ending, I’m just gonna make yall work for it, lmao.


	24. Chapter 24: Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Eagles adapt your their lives in the newly war-torn Fodlan, some doing better than others as they prepare to take their new roles in the Strike Force, meanwhile, Manuela starts to put together two and two about Catherine’s strange behavior, and tries her best to help her friend recover from and experience she knows a bit too well. 
> 
> How do we heal from the ways we are hurt? How do we help those we care for heal? How do we help when those we care for seem determined to destroy themselves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so I am really fucking nervous about this chunk of the plot, but I hope everyone enjoys this weeks update. There’s not a whole lot of pomp and circumstance for this week, cus I know that if I let myself mull this over I’ll never post this chapter, lol. Enjoy!
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage  
> I'll give my usual plug to The Unqualified 1 (She's anything but) https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Unqualified1

“Miss Lysithea, I do hope you’ve had some time to consider my offer.” Edelgard said, sat across from the young woman who was her only company in the empty audience chamber. The girl was short, even shorter than Edelgard if not by very much. Her uniform hung off of her, sleeves a bit too long and too loose, which seemed to fit, considering she was barely 17. 

“I have, but I will admit it is quite a perilous thought, the possibility of turning my back on my classmates, my home, for the sake of the Empire.” Lysithea said, brushing away a strand of hair as white as Edelgard’s, for similar reasons. Edelgard gave an understanding nod. For the first time in years that felt like decades, she had removed her gloves, and her hands, scars and all, were on full display. 

“I do understand, given what was done to House Ordelia under the guise of my family's banner, why you might be hesitant.” Edelgard admitted, drumming her fingers against the table as she looked into Lysithea’s eyes with a weary sigh. The poor girl, however much she hated to be called any term denoting her youth, was the ‘first version’ of Edelgard, in a sense. The first ‘survivor’, the first one to be the last left alive. Her family, under the guise of quelling a rebellion, had been subjected to many of the same experiments that would be pushed onto Edelgard’s siblings and herself only months after they’d proven successful. “But I hope what I have told you of my own family, of our shared life, may show you that I do not make this request callously, or without thought to how it may feel.” The younger woman nodded. 

“I understand. It was a rather revolting idea to me at first, but… given what it is that you told me of the church, of their hand in this fouled world and our experiences in it, I suppose your quest seems just, and if you can assure me my parents will be taken care of, that house Ordelia’s estate will be settled regardless of if I survive to the end of this war, then I will agree.” 

“I will ensure it personally.” Edelgard said, thankful for a success. “But I would not worry, I have no intention of sending my Strike Force into battle needlessly, or recklessly, and you are not going to be fighting alone. There is not much we leave to luck, and I do not intend to let you fall on the battlefield any time soon.” Edelgard tried to reassure. 

“While I appreciate the assurance, we both know that was not what I meant, Lady Edelgard. There is no need to play coy with me. I have come to terms with the fact my metaphorical ‘clock’ is ticking on a much shorter schedule than others.” Lysithea said, almost teasingly, as if some sort of gallows humor that were going over Edelgard’s head, and she could only look at her, confused. After a long moment, Lysithea’s eyes filled with such heartbroken realization. “You have no idea, do you?” 

“I’m unclear as to what exactly you mean.” Edelgard said, concern evident in her voice. Lysithea raised a single hand to her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Hey, Kitten, how are you holding up?” Manuela asked, walking into the small room to the sight of a rather bored looking Catherine staring out the window, a discarded book laying at the foot of the bed. 

“Hi, Manuela. I’m fine. Just like the last time you checked.” Catherine sounded as if her mind were miles away. Manuela walked to the foot of the bed, picking up the book. As she had approached, she noticed Catherine shift as far back in the bed as she could. A glint of fear flickering in her tired, heavily bagged eyes. 

“Did you not like the book? I thought it might be to your taste.” Manuela asked, holding up the cheap romance novel she had left on her last visit. Catherine shrugged, looking at Manuela but refusing to look her in the eye. 

“Just a bit too, well, raunchy for me. Thanks for trying, at least.” Catherine said. Manuela noticed her chained wrist, absolutely ground raw even as the chain seemed more than reasonably loose. 

“I’ve never known you to be one to flinch away from a bit of vulgarity, kitty cat...” Catherine said nothing, and Manuela looked at the haggard, exhausted form of a woman that had once seemed invincible to her. “Is there anything I could do to help? I could look at your wrist if you’d like.” 

“No!” Catherine said, a bit too loudly. “I, just...no. It’s fine. But, um, did… did you talk to Flayn?” Catherine asked, seeming to rub the raw part of her wrist with her other thumb. Manuela nodded.

“I did. I saw her this morning in the medical bay and gave her your message. She mentioned something about a meeting with Edelgard, but she said she would come see you once she is done with that.” Catherine seemed relieved and yet even more anxious at that reassurance. 

“Thank you, Manuela.” Catherine said. Her tone felt too stiff, too professional. 

“Of course. I’m glad you seem to be doing better. Is there anything else I can do?” 

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.” Catherine seemed ashamed to have even asked.

“I wouldn’t offer if I did.” 

“Could you grab me some fresh clothes from, um, the professor’s room? I’m starting to smell.” Manuela nodded, it seemed simple enough. “Is there any word back yet about her?”

“Nothing, I fear. Miss Duran has been out on scouting duty for almost a week straight. You know damned well if she found anything she’d be back here in a heartbeat.” Catherine nodded, having practically flinched in pain at the mention of the girl. 

“Yeah, that makes sense. How is Ashe doing? Is she ok?” Catherine asked.

“As far as I’m aware, yes. She and miss Pinelli have been hard at work scouting the area around the Monastery, searching for Byleth.” Catherine visibly flinched at the name. “She took… everything rather hard. After the Monastery was secure, we didn’t see hide nor tail of that young woman for almost two days. She’s not giving up on Byleth.” Manuela said, seeing a flash of pride cross the former knight’s eyes. 

“That’s my girl.” Catherine whispered. “I’m glad Leonie is out there, keeping an eye on her. Um… could you grab something else, when you’re in the professor’s room then?” Manuela quirked an eyebrow. “There’s a pillow, on the left side of the bed, toward the wall. It’s pretty firm, you couldn’t miss it. I, I haven’t been sleeping well, it might help.” 

“Of course,hun. You had me worried there for a second. I thought you were about to ask me to fetch something from her intimate drawer.” Catherine didn’t laugh, and Manuela couldn’t find the spirit to try and save the conversation. 

She walked out and back to her office. Something felt so very wrong about Catherine’s behavior. She wasn’t acting anything like herself, even in a context like the one they were in with her tentative “protective custody”. 

She thought about the differences in her behavior, and a pattern started to form. It was strange, but familiar, and Manuela wondered back to something she had heard when they had brought Catherine to this room. Over and over, a fearful whimper of one name, Rhea. She looked down at the cover of the book, two women posed dramatically in disheveled and half-removed clothing, and she felt her stomach drop. 

Mercedes and Flayn walked alongside the emperor as they continued their conversation. Edelgard had just given the same spiel to them that she had to all of the eagles that night before the battle of the Monastery. 

“I do not expect you both to answer me immediately. I know the church holds much importance to the both of you, and this must all weigh heavy on your minds. I’ll give you the same time to decide for yourselves as I offered the other assorted students that found themselves left behind by the main charge, the beginning of next week.” Edelgard completed her little diatribe, and Flayn nodded, pausing at an intersection of the hallway. 

“Thank you, Emperor. It is appreciated to have time to think, but I believe I already have an answer for you. I will join, if the Strike Force needs any more skilled in the art of healing.” Edelgard looked almost shocked as Flayn bowed. 

“Are you certain?” 

“As I will ever be. I know I do not intend to return to my family, and there are people here I intend to be there for. I know better than most that whether or not I think anyone should rule Fodlan, they should not be it. You’ve taken Fodlan’s fate in your hands, I intend to do the same with my own.” Edelgard smiled at the green haired woman, and began to wonder if she may not be so naive as she originally thought. 

“Mercedes, please know you have time to think this over. I hope you both have a good afternoon.” Edelgard said, turning and taking a hallway leading away from them. Mercedes sighed, holding a book of healing magic to her chest and thinking about the paths ahead of her. They began walking back to Manuela’s office, and Mercedes noticed a heavy weight hanging on Flayn’s shoulders. It was only as they reached the doors and entered the dark, still-empty medical bay that she noticed a glint of wetness on the woman’s cheeks. 

“Flayn, are you ok?” Mercedes asked, wanting to reach out, but since the battle had broken out, Flayn had not allowed any kind of contact between them. After the first day Mercedes knew there had to be a reason, and wanted to respect that until Flayn felt comfortable closing that gap herself. 

“I...I’m just finally starting to realize everything that happened… I’m really at war with my only remaining family.” Flayn said quietly, looking down at her hands as she thought about the spell she’d used to send her father flying. There had been so much blood on her hands over the years before she had slept, before she had awoken and began to live in the Monastery. She had spent years fighting in the war against the pawns of those Edelgard had called “Those Who Slither”, and now it seemed she was back in that war, so many centuries later. 

“Do you regret your decision? I’m sure Edelgard would understand if you changed your answer.” Flayn just shook her head. 

“No. I know it is right. At least the most I have available right now. I just.... I just wish they weren’t so blind, so afraid… so wicked.” Flayn said, sitting on an unused cot, Mercedes moving to sit beside her, but keeping a gap between them that they hadn’t kept before. 

“I don’t believe there’s anything truly wicked in this world.” Mercedes tried to reassure her. “I think everyone just tries to do their best, and some people make different choices than others.” Mercedes pondered, toying with her uniform. “I know how you feel, at least as family is concerned. I, well, the church was always more of a family to me than really anyone else. My brother, Emil, and I were close, but he went mad and killed our father when I was young, and after that we were separated. I haven’t seen him since.” She recalled, remembering the happy young boy her brother had been when she had known him. 

“Mercedes, I didn’t know.” Flayn said, as if in apology. 

“I suppose I sort of intended for you not to. Forgive my deception. But, well, the church gave me a home, family, people who cared for me...and now I’m forced to realize just how many horrifying things have been going on just beneath the surface all this time. I don’t doubt what Edelgard said is true, but I just wish I did. Does that make me wicked? Or mad?” 

“Not unless you consider me both of those as well. I think you know exactly how I feel.”

“I just don’t know what to do anymore. My whole life I planned to serve the church, and now, well, it seems I am considering risking my life to defeat it. I don’t quite know how to even begin thinking of a new life for myself. In truth, these past few days I still have found comfort in praying to Saint Cethleann each night for protection. It seems almost foolish to try to do one while still doing the other.” Flayn looked away, and Mercedes wondered if the look of guilt that crossed her face was a trick of the light or the angle, or really there. 

“... I never really had a choice in my life, or in much of anything, really. It’s a struggle still just to know how to go through the most basic steps of a day, let alone to try and imagine my entire life.” 

“Well, perhaps we can both find a new path for ourselves, together.” Mercedes said, setting her hand next to her hip, offering it without prying too far into Flayn’s space. 

“I would like that.” Flayn did not take the hand, but she looked to the taller woman with a smile and a glint of almost guilty hope in her tired eyes. “I find thoughts of my life a bit simpler, and brighter, when they include you.” As they sat there, the doors swung open again, and they realized they had been sat in a mostly unlit room together talking for quite some time. Manuela strolled to her desk, smiling at them as she set a few things on the desk. 

“Hello, girls. I hope I am not interrupting anything.” 

“No, Professor Manuela, simply talking.” Mercedes quickly clarified, earning a slightly exasperated, knowing glance. 

“Well, I hope your chat was nice. Flayn, sweetheart, did you visit Catherine yet?” Flayn shook her head no. “Well, perfect than. Could you bring these down with you when you do, then?” Manuela handed Flayn a small bundle of clothing and a dense pillow. 

“I think so, yes.” Flayn said, unsure what they were for. 

“Wonderful, thank you my dear.” Manuela said, returning to her desk.

“You haven’t visited her yet? At all?” Mercedes asked, a bit concerned. Flayn just shook her head, a look of shame on her face. 

“Hubert, you are going to run yourself into the ground at this pace. Let your duties wait for a moment and come to lunch with me.” Ferdinand all but demanded, having just pulled the young man from his post at the desk that had once belonged to Professor Hanneman. 

“Ferdinand, I am not in a position where I can simply put my responsibilities on hold for a meal. If you would like, we can eat together in my office.” Hubert offered, sipping from a cup of room temperature coffee. 

“Oh, so you might ignore me completely in favor of some report on the Kingdom shipping manure to the Alliance like you did earlier this week?” Ferdinand asked, tapping his foot a bit on the floor as a rather embarrassed look crossed his partner’s face. 

“I…” 

“My light, I will ask you to come to lunch with me one more time. After that, I am going to start dragging.” Hubert sighed, shaking his head and setting his cup down. 

“Ok. I can spare a half an hour for a meal, I suppose.” Hubert was soon enough being led by the arm to the dining hall. 

As they sat with their plates, Ferdinand tried to strike up conversation. He knew few things interested Hubert more than magic and his work, so he decided even while he knew little about both, he would rather be confused with a talkative partner than bored with a silent one. 

“So, what has you so stressed as of late, Hubert? Your bags have bags beneath those beautiful eyes of yours.” This earned him a glare, but there was a hit of a smile on the man’s lips as he wiped his mouth politely with his napkin, swallowing his food before speaking. 

“It is Lady Edelgard.” Hubert admitted. 

“I’m dumbfounded, absolutely shocked.” Ferdinand said, his tone as dead and lifeless as the last king of Faergus. 

“Oh, hush.” Hubert grumbled, folding his hands politely. “She isn’t sleeping well, as of late. I’ve come in every evening, a quarter to 9 with her tea, and every morning I walk in and find her not only awake, but hours deep into her work. I wonder if perhaps it is her changing her tea of choice, but she insists on the same tea every night.” Hubert said, pausing to take a sip of his water. 

“So, how does her sleep habits effect your workload?” Ferdinand asked. “Oh, would you please pass the salt?” Hubert obliged, and sighed as he looked at his plate of pasta. 

“I am trying to assist with the Emperor’s obligations, and reduce her workload as she grows into her crown.” 

“So you think that you can take away the paperwork, and that will suddenly help her sleep?” Ferdinand asked. 

“I suppose. Without that work, she has no reason to wake so early and stay up so late, and perhaps she might sleep.” Ferdinand smiled as he realized that, as intelligent as Hubert was, he still seemed to miss some obvious points. 

“Hubert, it’s not likely that she is waking up to do paperwork. I’d bet a much higher stake that she is in fact doing that work because she is up to begin with. Perhaps that is where you should start, finding what is effecting her sleep.” Hubert sighed again. 

“I have tried asking her, but she adamantly denies any difficulty sleeping. I am at a loss of what to do.” Hubert admitted. “And what reasoning I can think of for her to be struggling to sleep is… not easily mended, to be certain.” 

“Not without a bit of good news from Ashe, I’m certain.” Ferdinand remarked, earning a small chuckle from Hubert.

“That is not my business to confirm or deny.” Hubert ignored the rolled eyes Ferdinand replied to that with. 

“Please, my heart, the entirety of Fodlan might as well know that the Emperor had her heart stolen by our now missing professor. You would be confirming little beyond the fact that the sky is blue.” Ferdinand said plainly. 

“Regardless. Perhaps you are correct, but there is little I can do to try and make her feel comfortable enough to truly rest, so I will do my best in other areas where I can intervene, and hope for the best.” Hubert declared. 

“Well, I will do my best to support you and our dearest Emperor in that regard, but I do ask that you try and make a bit more time for me when you can.” Ferdinand said, pouting his lips just a bit in the way he knew always drove Hubert crazy. He couldn’t stand nor resist Ferdinand’s puppy-dog eyes. “I would rather enjoy being able to spend a nice morning in bed with my little viper once in a while.” The blush that crept onto Hubert’s face at that nickname made Ferdinand grin from ear to ear. He reached across taking his partner’s hand, and the Vestra found a soft smile gracing his face. 

“I suppose I could try to make sure I leave a morning or two open for something like that.” Hubert had to admit, it did sound rather enticing. 

“Thank you, my light.” Ferdinand said, returning to his meal. 

Catherine jumped as she noticed a flash of green hair on the edge of her vision, but her heart began beating regularly again when she saw that it was only Flayn, walking in with a small bundle of fabric and a pillow. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, finding herself breathing easy for the first time in almost a week. 

“Hello, Catherine. Manuela told me to bring these for you.” Flayn set the items down on the bed.

“Thanks, Flayn. I appreciate it.” Catherine looked at the bundle of clothing, finding 2full changes of clothes and a few extra undershirts and pairs of underwear as well. She was beyond grateful. “I was starting to worry I wasn’t ever going to see you around here. Not that I could really blame you.” 

“I’m sorry. I meant to come sooner, I really did. I just… How are you, um, well, how are you doing? With everything I mean.” 

“I...I don’t really know. It’s all just, well, a lot.” Catherine said, almost not thinking as she pulled her legs into her chest, her arms wrapping around them as if trying to protect herself. The chain rattled as she did so, and Flayn saw the raw, cracked skin on Catherine’s wrist.

“Is your chain too tight? I can ask Emperor Edelgard to have it loosened if it’s hurting you.” Catherine shook her head, a bit faster and a bit longer than really seemed appropriate. She pulled a bit on the arm, and Flayn watched the rough metal rub on the raw skin. 

“No. It, um, it helps. And if it gets looser I might... I’m fine. Flayn. I just wish I…” 

“Wish you what, Catherine?” 

“I don’t know. I guess I wish I just knew more? About what ‘happened’ to me. But at the same time I feel a lot better not knowing much. It’s so confusing.” Catherine said weakly. Flayn moved to sit at the foot of the bed, and Catherine moved to let her. It was safe with Flayn in a way it wasn’t with the others. She didn’t need to grind her wrist, she knew Flayn was safe around her. 

“I could tell you, if you’d like. I only know so much, but I can share what I know.” Flayn offered, and Catherine thought on it for a moment, finally nodding and looking at her. “It… well it’s our blood. My family is not like you all. We’re older, the last remnants of a long dead city, a long dead people.” Flayn started, and Catherine sat, taking it all in. She was too tired to question or doubt anymore. “Our kind is an especially, well, I think the word would be ‘empathetic’, but that doesn’t exactly have the same neutrality I think it needs. We are able to read people’s emotions, their memories, with enough practice and time. Some, with an especially large amount of both, learn to influence, as well as read.” Flayn said, knowing that who was implied by the ‘some’ was obvious. 

“How...how does it work?” 

“That, I can’t explain quite as well.I stopped learning, from her, when she was getting to those points in her ‘lessons’ about our ‘gift’.” Flayn twiddled her fingers, biting her cheek as she tried to think of how to say this as painlessly as possible for Catherine’s sake. “I know that the most powerful things, the influencing, the controlling, needs contact. It needs touch and connection to allow for things to be changed, or planted.” Catherine nodded. 

“You mentioned that. Back in the stairway… don’t let her touch you again. That’s how you put it.” Flayn nodded. 

“It’s a connection, and it is easily exploited by those who wish to… maybe even those who don’t.” Catherine looked up as she saw a tear on Flayn’s cheek. The girl’s green eyes rose to meet Catherine’s, and her voice came out shaky, uneven. “I’m sorry, Lady Catherine. I swear, I tried my best to help you. I wanted to find you, after my father dragged me away, but you were nowhere to be found.” Catherine felt a frog in her throat, trying to push it down as she looked away from the girl. “I’m sorry I failed you, that I stayed away so long out of fear and shame...I’m so, so sorry, Catherine.” 

“I… I don’t blame you.” Catherine said quietly. She knew there were only two to blame for what had happened to her, Rhea for doing it, and herself for having failed to stop it. But it seemed Catherine’s words struck a chord with Flayn, who let out a quiet, almost-hidden sob. 

“I do.” Flayn said. “If I had stood up for myself in that stairwell instead of waiting until I’d been dragged off, or if I’d done something for the months prior to this all, maybe I could of done more… But now I’m simply stuck, having done nothing until the very last minute, and still being cursed with this vile power.” Catherine chewed her cheek, the spot being nearly as raw as her wrist. 

“I don’t know, kid. I think you did good when you did.” Catherine assured. “It doesn’t matter when you do the right thing, just as long as it’s what you do. But, I need to know… Are the others, well, safe around me?” 

“I don’t know.” Flayn said, the apology for her ignorance evident in her voice. “The way it works is...complicated. There can be ideas, messages, instructions planted that don’t take root for long lengths of time. Or that needs to be set off by something.” Catherine looked utterly terrified as she heard that, but there was also an air of realization in her gaze. 

“Like...someone saying they love you.” Flayn nodded. 

“Yes, I suppose that could be one such idea. They are more general than that, however. It would be more something like an idea, a feeling. So instead of just being ‘I love you’, it might just be something like you feeling like that bond is there.” Catherine gulped, and hugged her legs to her tighter. 

“So it could be set off by someone saying they love you… or someone calling that person ‘your girl’.” Flayn looked a bit confused at such specific examples. 

“Yes, that is the general idea.” 

“Could you, um… check? If there are any things planted?” Flayn shook her head no at Catherine’s request. 

“Those are subtle. I’d be hard-pressed to actually tell any of them apart from just your own instincts. I could see them when they were set off, when they start to weave their way around your mind, to control it. But when it has yet to grow, it would be like looking for a seed buried in a graveyard.” Catherine nodded. 

So she had no idea if she was safe. She had no idea if anyone was safe around her. 

“Thank you.” Catherine said quietly. 

“I didn’t do much.” Flayn responded, shame ebbing into her voice. 

“You did more than you think. I know more now, and that lets me know how to do my best to keep everyone safe.” Catherine assured, letting her legs rest, sitting them, crossed, beneath her. “I am thankful that you tried to help me in the stairwell. It was nice to have someone help, when I felt so damned alone. You helped my arm, and at least tried to keep others from grabbing me.” Catherine said, rolling her shoulder uncomfortably at the thought of someone touching her. “I think a lot of that was just… us both being different kinds of powerless, and different kinds of controlled. I don’t blame you for what happened.” 

“Thank you… I just wish I could be rid of this, this damned curse.” Flayn said, toying with her fingers and seeming to pick at the nails. Catherine reached over, resting her hand on Flayn’s to stop her. Flayn seemed to flinch at the touch. 

“You… you shouldn’t touch me.” Catherine pulled her hand back. 

“I’m sorry, if that was too, um, familiar. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“No, it’s not that. I just… No one should touch me, really. It’s not safe.” Flayn said, moving her hands away from each other. “I have no idea how to keep my power from influencing those around me. I don’t even know if I do it without even realizing. I just never want to do what she did, to make someone do something they don’t want to.” Catherine nodded. 

“I don’t think you’re going to, Flayn. You’re not secretly some monster.” 

“I feel like one, sometimes.” Flayn admitted, wiping at her cheek. 

“Monsters don’t care about who they hurt. They don’t even think about it. I think if anyone else on this damned planet was going to have those kinds of powers… I’m glad it’s you. A monster wouldn’t have tried to help me.” Flayn looked up at her, her eyes a weird mix of thankful and scared. Catherine toyed with the fabric bundle, and felt a strange weight in it. She found, wrapped in one of the pairs of pants, a small book on gardening, of all things. The book was old and faded, dogeared and filled on most pages with extra notes in the margins. She opened the text and found a small note scribbled on the back of the front cover. ‘Something I’m glad I had when some of my books were too ‘raunchy’ for me. Let me know if it is something you like. - Mani’. 

Catherine figured she didn’t know shit about gardening, but she now had all the time in the world to learn. Although the thought of anything ever being too taboo for Mani made Catherine chuckle. 

Byleth walked through the halls of Garreg Mach, her strange tights clinging to her legs uncomfortably as she followed Claude, his yellow cape occasionally billowing up into her face. 

“So, Lysithea is the daughter of Count Ordelia, and is probably the youngest student here. But watch out! She gets angry if you treat her like a child. As for me, I do it on purpose. You have to make your own fun in this place, you know?” Claude said, looking back at her with a grin. 

“And what of that girl with the pink hair I saw you speaking with earlier?” Byleth heard herself ask. 

“Ah, Hilda. She is the only daughter of Duke Goneril. It seems her father and brother coddle her quite a bit. If you look up "lazy" in the dictionary...her picture won't be there because she never got around to submitting it. Not too unusual for a noble, I guess.” Claude said with a shrug.

“Is there anyone else among you?” 

“Nope, that should be it for the Deer. Have you already spoken to the other two?” Claude asked, and Byleth shook her head no. “Ah, well I had thought you might have saved the best for last. Hopefully they don’t disappoint you then.” Byleth shrugged. 

“I have already agreed to give my aid to the Alliance, I had figured that might include to it’s class at the Monastery.” 

“Ah, I like your style, teach. Keep it simple.” Claude said with that same grin. They walked up the hallway toward the Library, and there stood a short, stout man whose image filled Byleth with utter rage, yet the Byleth she was looking through the eyes of seemed to have no idea who he was. 

“Ah, young master Claude. Welcome.” ‘Thomas’ offered Byleth his hand after having greeted the head of house. “Welcome to the library. Here you may find literature from the far reaches of Fódlan. I am Tomas, the librarian. If you have need of me, do not hesitate to ask. I have worked here for...hm. I have lost track of the decades, it seems.” Byleth watched her hand take ‘Tomas’s, and figured she must have no idea who the hell this man was to be shaking his hand so casually. She wanted to leap forward and throttle him, slowly and painfully, but sadly her body did nothing of the sort. 

“Byleth.” She heard herself say, her voice that same deadpan monotone. She wondered if that’s how she had sounded when she first showed up to Garreg Mach. 

“Excuse me.” A familiar voice called, walking past them. Byleth recognized the signature red half cape and red tights, and felt a warmth in her heart at the site of Edelgard. Her eyes seemed to remain fixed on the girl for just a moment too long. 

“Don’t go second guessing your choice of class, now, Teach.” Claude joked, standing beside her with his arms crossed. 

“I am not. What was that girl's name again?” 

“Oh, that’s Edelgard. She’s the heir to house Hresvelg, and the throne of the Adrestian Empire.” 

“Hmmm, Edelgard…” Byleth felt her tongue lilt the word with an unfamiliarity that tasted bitter to her. How could she have forgotten Edelgard? Even in her worst nightmare, that didn’t seem possible. 

Catherine thanked the goddess for small mercies as she dropped the wet rag into the bucket of lukewarm soapy water sat on her bedside table. The bucket had been the solution to the problem of Catherine smelling like hell, and even if it was awkward trying to make it all work she was thankful for it. She had already washed most of her body by this point, starting with her dick which was by far the worst offender, then moving to her armpits and legs and beneath her breasts. She was sat on a towel, to ensure the bed didn’t end up soaked, and after finishing her lower body she had dried off and replaced her pants, doing the same with her bra after drying underneath her chest. She was just drying off, and was in the process of replacing and trying to tie her awkwardly modified shirt in place as the door swung open. Edelgard stepped in, seeming to realize a second later what she was seeing and averting her eyes. 

“Oh, goddess, apologies Catherine, I should have knocked.” 

“It’s fine just… don’t look.” Catherine said, hurriedly pulling through loose corner of the shirt up, ensuring the entirety of her back was covered as she finishing the knot that held everything in place, one side having been slit open to accommodate her chain. Edelgard looked away until Catherine sat back in the bed, and she moved to sit in the small chair beside it that had been left there since her last visit two days ago. Catherine moved to the exact opposite end of the bed, as far as she could get from Edelgard, just like last time, and all the times before. “You look like hell, Edelgard. You should go and rest.” Catherine figured that was nicer than saying ‘you should get as far away from me as humanly possible for your own damn good.’ 

“You’re as charming as ever, Catherine.” Edelgard said, resting her hands neatly in her lap as she released a heavy sigh. 

“Not a whole lot to be charmed about.” Catherine observed, picking up her now much-more-heavily-worn book on gardening and flipping it open to the last bookmarked page. It was a section about soil preservation that was oddly fascinating to her. 

“Well, it seems you’ve certainly taken to that book. You’ve gotten far and only had it for what, 4 days now?” Edelgard asked. 

“6.” Catherine corrected. 

“Still, quite a bit of progress.” Edelgard said, leaning forward in her chair. “What are you reading about now?” 

“Soil, now. I just finished reading about transplanting plants.” Catherine said, not even really thinking. She found Edelgard’s company a strange mixture of pleasant and aggravating. The girl should be miles away from her, for her own safety, and yet she stayed, and continued to show up. 

She thought perhaps she could bore her into leaving by talking about the intricacies of plants and gardening. That couldn’t be interesting to anyone but her, right? So, she began explaining all the various parts of the transplanting process, the various ways the book had described about how plants experience shock, how to prevent it and treat it, and things like that. That inevitably bled into Catherine talking about the chapter before that, which had been focused on berry plants and how to best ensure high yields and healthy plants. 

She had mentioned noticing one plant in the book, a berry bush from Dagda she remembered having been in the greenhouse at one time. When, after having spent several minutes searching, she finally found the picture of the bush and went to show it, Catherine saw that Edelgard was fast asleep, her head resting on her arms on the side of the bed. 

Catherine was going to say something to wake her, but by the heavy bags under her eyes, she could tell that Edelgard seemed to be having worse luck at sleeping than even she had. She at least had Byleth’s pillow to hold at night, and that had helped significantly. 

She shook her head, knowing that it was foolish to let Edelgard sit there, asleep, so close to her, but damn it if the girl was going to insist on being so stubborn, Catherine could only do so much. She laid back in the bed, careful to ensure her legs were out of reach, and began to read again. 

She wasn’t quite sure when she fell asleep herself, but sure enough darkness took her too. 

“Professor Eisner, curious to see you here.” Edelgard said, startling Byleth from her thoughts as she watched herself training. She had been in the Arena, practicing with the Sword of the Creator, which had been in her possession for a little over a week and a half now. She was sweaty and ragged, and Byleth couldn’t stand the feeling of the sweat-soaked lace sticking to her legs. 

“Ah, Lady Edelgard.” Byleth said, bowing her head slightly as she returned the blade to its place on her belt. “I was merely trying to get a bit of extra training in, before the week begins again. I can leave, if you’d prefer to do whatever business you have here alone.” Byleth offered, gesturing toward the door. Edelgard looked at her for a moment, and shrugged. 

“You needn’t leave if you are not done with your training. I was in fact coming to do something of much the same type. I find myself struggling with my training with the axe, and thought taking a bit more time when I have it to practice could do me well.” Edelgard hefted the large wooden axe over her shoulder. 

“It is wise to work to improve yourself where you see deficiencies.” Byleth said, her flat affect clearly giving Edelgard a moment of pause. “If you would want, I could offer some aid as a training partner. It is best to train with a moving target than with one so lifeless as a straw dummy, I have found.” 

“I couldn’t agree more. You’re more than welcome to join me, if you would like.” Byleth simply nodded, expressionless, as she followed this version of Edelgard a bit farther into the arena, stood at the very middle, Byleth picked up a wooden training sword, holding it lithely in two hands as she bent her knee, standing at the ready as Edelgard shook out her arms, loosening up before hefting her axe into her hands. “Are you ready?” Byleth nodded, and the two began. 

Byleth didn’t recognize her fighting style as she watched her limbs move without her control. Edelgard charged her, while Byleth remained still, watching the woman approach before deftly side-stepping the incoming attack. Edelgard spun to try and attack while she was moving, but Byleth’s blade moved like a pond skimmer on water, guiding the axe head in just the right way to leave it swinging harmlessly. A swift swing of her arm, and the handle of her training sword smacked into the side of Edelgard’s wrist, forcing her to drop her axe as Byleth swept her leg out from beneath her, dropping the woman onto her stomach in the middle of the field. 

“Well, it certainly does seem you are in need of some additional training.” Byleth said, curtly, as she offered her hand to Edelgard. 

“It would certainly seem so…” Edelgard mused, looking the woman before her up and down. 

“If you are in need of assistance, I could set aside some time to help you on sunday afternoons.” 

“I don’t see why not.” Edelgard said, grinning as she picked up her axe, backing away and readying for another round. 

Byleth found some solace in her strange prison as she watched the imitation of herself sparring with Edelgard, who was as brutal and yet elegant as she always was. 

Hours passed, and as the sun began to set, Edelgard took pause before walking back to her dorm. 

“Professor… before next week’s sparring match, would you like to join me for tea?” Byleth thought for a moment. 

“I don’t see why not.” 

Catherine felt a rustling on the end of her bed, and grumbled a bit to herself as she tried to ignore it. 

“Letty, quit fucking wriggling. This shit’s ridiculous.” Catherine mumbled, half asleep. But she realised the thing in her arms at that moment was a pillow, and not in fact Byleth, and when she snapped her head up and looked, she noticed a rather horror stricken look on Edelgard’s sleeping face, as the woman seemed to be shaking in her sleep. Catherine wanted to reach out, to shake her awake from whatever terror seemed to be haunting her, but when she did, she found herself hesitating. 

She couldn’t. Flayn was one thing, she knew when she had set her hand on Flayn’s that if it had caused something to happen, Flayn could stop her. But with Edelgard, there was nothing she could do but pray the chain held if suddenly something made a seed Rhea had planted sprout into a murderous spree. 

Catherine sighed and shook her head. She needed to help. 

“Edelgard. Edelgard!” Catherine spoke, then yelled. But still the woman didn’t stir. Catherine bit into the raw of her cheek until she could yet again taste blood, and let out another sigh, leaning forward and nudging the woman with the corner of her book. “Princess!” the Emperor sprang up, terror evident in her eyes for a split second before she seemed to see that she was not where she had been in the dream, but was in fact there with Catherine, who was sat with her legs crossed at the head of the bed. Edelgard’s eyes lingered on the chain on Catherine’s wrist, and the raw skin that was just barely visible beneath it. 

“What... “ Edelgard said, letting the question hang. Catherine was well within arms reach, and Edelgard could see that. How in the hell had she been so foolish to fall asleep? Hubert would skin her alive for her foolishness, letting herself do something so daft in the room of ‘an enemy combatant’. 

“You fell asleep. Started having some kind of terror, and it took me jabbing you to wake you up.” Edelgard wanted to groan at how foolish it all sounded now, but she’d be lying if she said the rest hadn’t been needed. That was, up until the end it seemed, some of the most restful sleep she’d had in weeks. 

“Thank you, then, for waking me.” Edelgard mumbled, unsure of what to do. 

“Do… do you want to talk about it?” Catherine asked. Edelgard shook her head no, standing from her chair. 

“No, my demons are mine to own.” Edelgard moved the chair, setting it aside and straightening out her simple red gown that had become her standard attire. The Academy uniform no longer felt appropriate. 

“I get that.” Catherine said quietly. Looking at her book but thinking of much more distant things. “Just...take care of yourself, Edelgard.” 

The Emperor paused at the door, turning back to look at the tired woman on the bed, book in hand and head in the clouds. 

“I… I will be sending guards here in the morning. You will be moved from this room to an available dormitory and allowed to roam the grounds.” Catherine shot up in her bed, confusion evident. 

“Excuse me, what in the hell did you just say?” Catherine asked. 

“I made it clear, did I not? You’ll have your freedom on the Monastery grounds, starting tomorrow.” 

“That’s a bad idea, Edelgard. Don’t be a fool.”. 

“I don’t think that’s true.” 

“What makes you so certain?” Catherine asked. 

“Because I have the sneaking suspicion if I couldn’t trust you, you’d be doing everything in your power to convince me to let you go, not to try and stay in some cramped room chained to a wall.” Catherine grit her teeth, now was not the time for fucking jokes. 

“... You’re a fucking idiot, Edelgard.” 

“And you, as ever, are the exact same Catherine I’ve always known, a stubborn ass. Goodnight.” Edelgard slammed the door shut, and Catherine felt an eerie dred settle over herself. 

Tomorrow she’d be released… Tomorrow they’d set her loose, like some feral hound into an unsuspecting pack. She had to keep her friends safe. But how?

Edelgard marched through the halls of the Monastery, her head throbbing as she let the stress of the day begin to finally sink in. Or perhaps it was from her disturbed sleep, having already been maintaining herself on so little. Either way, her brain was throbbing and she was exhausted. 

But she knew rest wouldn’t likely come to her. Her mind was racing with thoughts of what she had just set into motion. Tomorrow Catherine would be released, and she would have to see if perhaps she had moved too hastily. 

Edelgard entered her office, finding a large and steaming pot of tea slowly flooding the room with the scent of Lavender. It helped her headache, and she felt some of the weight of the day melt away. 

What would Byleth say to her decisions? To her actions with Catherine? With the war? She found herself asking that often. 

“You know there’s a risk.” She could hear Byleth’s voice in her ears as if she were really there, and Edelgard imagined her leaned up against the desk, arms crossed and staring pensively at her. 

“Of course I do. There always is in war.” Edelgard said to her imagined Byleth. 

“She is quick enough to tell you such. Why ignore her?” Byleth asked, quirking an eyebrow at her. 

“Why would someone who is really a threat tell us such?” She could just imagine the way Byleth’s eyebrows would rise as she chewed her cheek, nodding along in agreement that the idea made questionable sense. “Besides, whatever has her so convinced that she is a threat to us, her actions speak otherwise.” 

“How do you mean?” Byleth would’ve asked. 

“I was asleep for, by my count, nearly three hours with my head on her bed. She had every opportunity to harm me, yet she instead did nothing, and let me rest. She even woke me when she saw I was having a terror. There are few who have ever seen me in a state like that… fewer still who would try to comfort me as she did. Those are not the actions of an enemy.” 

“Are you sure you are not letting your personal connection blind you?” 

Would Byleth ask that? That woman was the epitome of letting her connections guide her. She had, beyond all odds, chosen to walk with Edelgard. That just didn’t seem like something she’d ask. Where she there, she’s likely be spending every second she could by her bedside, guarding her from anyone who might wish her harm, including herself. 

“I’d do the same for you, you know.” She could hear Byleth say. 

“Would you? Or are you just saying that because you’re my imagination, and that is what I want to believe?” Byleth would’ve chuckled. 

“I suppose you’ll have to wait and see, whenever it is I finally turn back up.” In her fantasy, Byleth took a pause, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be back some day.” 

“I know… I just pray it isn’t too late.” Edelgard said to her own thoughts. “I am so dreadfully afraid that you’ll return and I’ll have already… that I’ll… I’m…” 

“Say it.” Her version of Byleth prodded her on. 

“I’m dying, Byleth… I’ve been dying this whole time and never ever given the good graces to know.” Edelgard confessed to herself, tears streaming down her cheek. 

“There are things you can do. Try talking to Linhardt, to Manuela, they’re skilled in both of their fields, and you know they could help you. Maybe even save you. You need to rely on them.” 

“I know. You aren’t saying anything I haven’t already considered. It would be impossible for you to. But I already rely so much on them, how could I ask them to bear this burden as well?” 

“You do it by knowing they’re your friends, your comrades. You help them and they help you. But you need to ensure you can function to begin with. You should sleep, el.” Edelgard wanted so badly to actually hear her partner say that name, in her imagination it did little more than make her heart ache that much more. 

“How can I sleep knowing you will not be there beside me…” 

“You slept well earlier. Perhaps there’s a reason…” Edelgard silences that thought with a wave of her hand. That was not a thought for now. “I just think you should try to rely on the comrades around you.” 

“You’re one to talk. Where you here, I have no doubt you’d charge into every battle, carrying us to victory and then dragging us back to manuela’s without even a complaint or thought for yourself.” 

“True. But it would all be worth it to stand by your side and kiss you again.” Her imagination was starting to run a little wild, Edelgard thought. 

“The tea is starting to lose steam…” Edelgard said aloud. 

“That is true.” 

“It helps… it helps me pretend you aren’t gone, aren’t lost.” Edelgard whispered your herself. 

“Ashe will find me. You know you can trust in her.” Byleth would assure her. 

“I have no choice. If I tried to stop her she’d likely… how did you phrase it about Dorothea? ‘Launch a bloody coup’? That feels appropriate.” Byleth would’ve laughed at that. 

“Please rest, my love. It will do you well.” 

And like that, Edelgard was left with herself, not even her imagination able to abate that empty feeling in her stomach. 

“Do you have everything packed?” Dorothea asked from her position, sat on the dormitory bed that as of tomorrow would cease being Petra’s. There were already two large bags leaned against the wall next to the door, and Petra was finishing the ties on a third. 

‘I believe so. I did not have much with me when I came to Fodlan, but I have collected much since I arrived. Most will need to be left behind, but I have collected my essentials.” Petra said, throwing the last bag against the wall as it landed with a flop on top of the others. Bernadetta was sat on the bed beside Dorothea, and the quiet whimpering sound she had been making for the better part of the past half hour seemed to peak when Petra said the words ‘left behind’. 

“Is...Is there really no way we can come with you?” Bernadetta asked, and Petra’s face fell even farther, the Brigian princess, soon to be queen, finding it difficult to meet her partners’ gaze as they sat on her bed, looking up at her in search of some miracle she did not have. 

“I am afraid not. The arrangements have already been made, and it is unlikely that we’d be able to change them so late.” Petra said, feeling as if she sounded more like she was making excuses than trying to make them feel better. 

Petra wanted to reach out to them. Wanted to pull them both against her, to hold them close and sob and beg their forgiveness and try to make the fleeting hours they had left together the best she could with what little she had, but she felt as if her feet were nailed to the floor where she stood. Dorothea held Berndetta’s hand in a grip like a python, and the poor girl had been sobbing on her shoulder to the point Petra could see the dark spot that had slowly grown over the past little while. The way they seemed, so tightly knit together with each other, almost made Petra feel as if her trying to step in, to reach out, to go to them would only make it worse. What was the point of going to them, even such a short distance, only to leave a few hours from now anyway? Could they even really want her here? 

Petra found herself pulled from her thoughts as she was tackled to the floor in a hug. The wind utterly knocked out of her as she looked down to see Bernadetta clinging to her waist so tightly it felt as if she were about to try and snap her in half. Petra moved her arms down, only really being able to hug Bernadetta’s head awkwardly, pushing her a bit closer to her chest than was likely appropriate for such a somber moment. Bernadetta looked up at her, her voice muffled a bit by the fabric. 

“I’m sorry… you looked like you were getting lost in your head again. I wanted to help.” Petra felt her lip quiver and pulled the girl tighter against her still, the click of Dorothea’s heels filling the room along with the other two girls' shaky breathing as she took a spot behind the princess, lifting Petra’s head and resting it on her legs. It was a merciful blessing from the floor, as was the sight of looking up into her partner’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry, loves.” Petra said weakly, running her hand through Bernadetta’s hair as she used the other hand to take Dorothea’s. 

“Don’t be.” Dorothea said quietly. 

“We know what Brigid means to you, and it’s...it’s not forever, is it?” Bernadetta seemed to realize she didn’t know for certain, and the fear that crept into her voice made Petra’s heart break all that much farther. 

“No, no Bernie-bear, not forever. It could be only a few months, if everything goes well. I will be back some day, I swear it.” Petra said. Bernadetta looked a bit less afraid, laying her head on Petra. 

“Just don’t forget about us…” She whispered into Petra’s blouse. 

“Never. I’d sooner perish.” Petra whispered back, hugging Bernadetta close as she met Dorothea’s eyes.

“I’d rather you avoid both, if possible.” Dorothea said, her fingers toying with a loose strand of Petra’s hair. 

That night, the three of them slept in Petra’s bed, all three nestled close together as tightly as they could. The mid-spring cool made it comfortable enough to have the three of them under the comforter, and even when Petra felt her back growing stiff, having spent hours laying on it while Dorothea’s head lay on her shoulder and Bernadetta lay on her opposite arm, even as she long past lost all sensation in said arm, she dared not move other than to cling tighter to the both of them. She could sleep on the carriage ride, and on the boat, but for now she wanted to remember absolutely everything she could about this moment, she wanted to live in it as long as possible.

Catherine walked out of the Administrative building carrying a large duffel bag full of the remnants of her belongings. Most of it was the clothes she’d been wearing over the past two weeks in her ‘protective custody’, butchered shirts and worn out pants. There were a few of her scattered other belongings that had been cleared out of her barracks, as that had officially been converted into imperial housing for their military command, and any civilians from villages that had been uprooted by the war. There was also her book, now on her second read through, that sat atop the bag with another that Manuela had tracked down in the library. It seemed the woman really only knew gardening books and porn, and Catherine wanted nothing to do with the second option at the moment. 

She felt as if every pair of eyes she passed were on her as she walked through the halls and paths towards the dormitories. The guards, the staff, the civilians, all of them might as well have been openly staring at her. She wanted with all her earthly might to just vanish and not feel as if at any moment something would pop off and she’d need to run for her life, although where she would run to was the real question. 

She had nowhere to go. No home, no comrades, nothing. Her family had made it clear years ago that she wouldn’t be welcomed in their home ever again, and even then Catherine would sooner walk herself into the gates of hell and personally cast herself into the flames than return to territory held by the church. Here, at least, she was safe from Rhea. The only issue was ensuring the people she cared for were safe from her. 

“Catherine!” A voice called out, and she only realized she’d been staring at the ground in front of her as she walked when the voice made her head snap up, finding it to belong to one very haggard looking Ferdinand. He seemed almost happy to see her, and that made Catherine feel worse. 

“Ferdinand.” Catherine greeted, and it seemed as if the aloofness of her tone knocked him off center. She had intended that, but it seemed he didn’t notice, or perhaps didn’t care. 

“Um, I’m… I’m glad to see you out and about!” Ferdinand said, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. The glare the approaching hand received from the knight seemed to stop him, again making him visibly uncomfortable. “I, well, I had heard from the Emperor that you would be joining us in the dormitories, so I had hoped to help you get settled!” Ferdinand explained, the sincere care in his voice made Catherine feel like even more an ass. 

“I suppose that would be ok.” Catherine said after a heavy sigh. 

“Wonderful! Amazing! Here, Edelgard told me which room she would be giving you. Let me walk with you to it and we can get some breakfast afterward! I spent all morning dealing with Hubert’s meetings and I’m absolutely famished beyond compare.” Ferdinand said, gesturing down the path as they began walking. “I’m glad you’re joining us out here in the land of the living, hahaha.” 

“It seems foolish, I’m amazed Hubert allowed it to happen.” Catherine said, looking off in the distance as she watched a smaller child running, a poor young mother, or perhaps older sister, chasing behind her asking her to slow down. “There’s so much to protect… why risk it?” She whispered to herself. 

“Hubert couldn’t stop Edelgard from doing anything she really wanted to. He is her lead advisor and Marquis of house Vestra, but he only holds so much actual power. His bond with Edelgard holds more sway than any title he has.” Ferdinand said, seemingly unafraid of sharing details that seemed so sensitive with her, a woman who was ostensibly still someone he should consider an enemy. 

“That doesn’t seem like the type of thing you should be so cavalier about saying.” Catherine advised. 

“Well, I’m only among friends.” Ferdinand said, smiling back at her as they climbed a small hill in the path.

“You say it so certainly.” Catherine said under her breath yet again. 

“Why would I not? Flayn has told us all about the harm you risked toward yourself to protect her from the knights that had been sent to collect her. Even if she hadn’t, after your help on the battlefield it’s not like I have any reason to doubt you.” Catherine looked at him, confused. 

“What the hell kind of help was I?” Catherine asked, stepping out of the path of a younger looking couple running past her and Ferdinand on the path, the older of the two young women dragging the younger one toward the Administrative building. Catherine heard one of them yelling ‘Come on, Roza! You must see this library!’ As they passed by.

“Catherine, you must be kidding!” Ferdinand said, looking at her as if she were insane. “You helped me come out on top against three knights in the battle! They had me cornered before you arrived, I had thought myself a doomed soul until you lopped the first one’s head off. I didn’t even know that was possible with a short sword!” Ferdinand praised. Catherine rubbed the back of her neck, realizing how little of that battle she actually remembered. 

“The...the battle is kind of a blur around that point.” Catherine admitted. 

“That’s understandable, it was intense. But I’m not the only one you helped.” Ferdinand said with a soft grin. 

“There are plenty of men on your side I didn’t help. People seem to have forgotten about that.” Catherine said with a bitter venom to her words. Ferdinand sighed, pausing on the path in front of her. 

“No, there are some who are very vocal about reminding us of that.” Catherine had a feeling she knew one in particular. 

“They seem like the ones you all should have listened to.” Ferdinand wondered why someone would seem so aggravated at being released, at not being held in chains. 

“There are few of us who haven’t made mistakes, in the short time of this war or before.” Ferdinand seemed to say not particularly to her. “When Edelgard launched her attack, none of us knew what to do. We fought her men, killed them, and had Byleth made the call, we likely would have tried to do the same to Edelgard and Hubert…” Ferdinand paused at the thought, his face twisting into a faint look of fear for what could have been. “Likely we would have been right there beside you on the battlefield against the empire’s troops, as well. We understand that it can be confusing trying to find your side in a conflict like this, where we see more old friends facing us on the battlefield than people we consider enemies. It’s unfortunate, but most of us understand. So when Edelgard told us you were going to be joining us out here, there were far more cheers than hesitation.” 

“Cheers?” Catherine asked, going still. 

“Well, maybe cheers is a bit dramatic, but there was definitely much more excitement among the strike force than argument.” Ferdinand clarified as he began walking again. “At least from those in attendance.” 

“Wait, ‘Strike Force’?” Ferdinand chuckled as he looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Yes. The houses, as I’m sure you could assume, no longer stand but we are still rather accustomed to working as a team, so our strange little family has united under the banner of the eagle once more as the ‘Black Eagle Strike Force’.” Catherine gave a curious look. 

“You know, that’s actually a pretty cool name.” Ferdinand laughed, and Catherine found it almost contagious. 

“I have been told you might be alone in being sincerely approving about the title, but I’m sure Edelgard would appreciate the praise.” Ferdinand said, walking around the corner, past the classrooms and toward the dormitories. 

“Now I’m a little worried you all received more than your usual amount. of head trauma.” Catherine said, feeling a bit guilty at how quickly her resolve and the plan had seemed to fall apart from Ferdinand’s sheer stubborn optimism. 

“No, it is simply a rather ridiculous title. But Edelgard enjoys it, and well, we know she has been dealing with a lot, as of late. Between the war and… everything else, we didn’t want to be too cruel when it seems to bring her some joy.” Ferdinand admitted, and Catherine figured she knew exactly what the ‘everything else’ was meant to be in reference too. She appreciated him not using her name. 

“That makes sense.” Catherine muttered. 

“Here we are.” Ferdinand said, stopping outside of a Dormitory door, gesturing up the familiar short staircase to a door she knew a bit too well.

“This is…” 

“This is the dormitory you’ve been assigned.” Ferdinand said, almost as if he were playing coy. “Would you like to join me for breakfast, or do you need some time to unpack?” Ferdinand asked. 

“I…” Catherine felt guilty, considering abandoning her plan so blatantly after having been out for less than an hour, but the hope in Ferdinand’s smile was infectious. “Let me drop my stuff, and we can get some food.” 

“Wonderful!” Ferdinand said as Catherine stepped up the stairs, walking in and catching the familiar scent of lavender, salt and soil. The room smelled like home. It smelled like Byleth. Catherine realized that, somewhere in the past chaotic mess of a year, those two smells had become one and the same.

The room almost exactly how she remembered it being the last time she’d been in it. That felt like a lifetime ago, and yet Catherine realized with a bit of a shock that it was barely a month and a half. That Sunday when she had awoken to find the bed empty beside her, had run to find the Eagles, and by the end of the day had fallen asleep in Manuela’s infirmary. 

Everything was the same as it had been that day, save for one thing that was out of place. On the desk, a small scrap of paper was laid out, and on it Catherine saw the tell-tale signs of Byleth’s horrid, barely legible handwriting. At the very top of the page she saw her name. Below it, she could just barely make out the message. “Went to help Edelgard with business in Enbarr, I’ll be back soon. I love you.” Catherine covered her mouth as she read, re-read, and re-re-read the note. 

She didn’t know how long she was standing there, just reveling in the familiar, safe feeling of the room. But all good things must end, and for Catherine they ended with a fiery demise. She looked up from the desk, and her eye caught the very edge of the mirror that hung on the wall. She looked at her reflection for the first time in weeks, and it took her a moment to realize the face in the mirror was hers to begin with. 

Her hair was down, loose around her head, too short to pull into any kind of ponytail. It framed her face close and drew out the parts that she had loved watching disappear the most. She saw the face of someone she thought she’d left behind long, long ago. But, that wasn’t the part that made her go still. She’d seen those aspects more blatantly on her ‘bad days’, when she picked apart her reflection more than others.

No, what stopped her in her place was the scar. The long, thin gash across her eye had healed, with a bit of help from Flayn, over the past few weeks. The line of pink flesh drew from the left side of her eye socket down across her eye until it ended just before her nose. She stared at the mark on her skin, despising herself for having dared to consider being so selfish as to give up on trying to help keep those few surviving people she cared about safe just for the sake of her feeling lonely. 

She took a moment to reach up, grasping the end of the hanging decoration before hefting it and throwing it against a distant wall, watching it shatter into pieces. She walked to the door and closed it with a loud crash. As she heard Ferdinand begin to knock, she reached down and latched the lock in place. She ignored the nobleman’s half-yelled questions and attempts to check if she was ok, sitting on the edge of the bed before eventually sliding off the side, her hands covering her ears as she leaned against the side of the bed, just waiting for him to walk away. It took what felt like hours. 

“Catherine, I’ll… I’ll leave you alone if that is what you need right now. But I’m always around if you need help…” 

She listened to the muffled steps as Ferdinand walked away, and remained there, sobbing on the floor for some time before finally moving to unpack and change into a clean set of clothes. She was just thankful the mirror was no longer there, that she didn’t have to face that twisted sight again. 

“Hi! Um… is this seat taken?” Bernadetta asked the young woman sat in the library. She had long blue hair that was pulled tight into a crown braid over the top of her forehead, and was still wearing the uniform of the Academy, even while others had quickly abandoned it. Bernadetta had abandoned it the day after they’d taken the monastery, and was now wearing a long sleeved shirt that Dorothea had found for her at a local market, and had taken the time to dye it a deep purple. It was a bit uncomfortable, as Bernadetta was still adjusting to the frills that practically exploded out of the ends of the sleeves and the collar, but she’d found a hooded cloak of a relatively similar color, and had taken to wearing that with the longer ‘cape’ portion wrapped around her shoulders in a sort of make-shift poncho. It was much more discreet. Her skirt had, finally, been replaced with a pair of baggy trousers that tucked into the black boots she now wore right at her knee. She was just thankful that Dorothea hadn’t tried to convince her to wear heeled boots. She’d likely have tripped down the stairs and broken her neck already. 

“Oh, um… I don’t think so.” The blue haired woman mumbled. Bernadetta took the seat across from her quiet company and setting the heavy tomes she had gathered onto the table. Bernadetta took a breath, calming her nerves and quietly muttering to herself that she could do this. 

“I um… I’ve seen you around the Strike Force meetings lately. You’re the daughter of Margrave Edmund in the Alliance, right?” The woman shook her head. 

“I… um… I’m his grand-niece, I suppose would be the best term for it.” She said, folding her hands in her lap. 

‘Oh…” Bernadetta felt a quiet panic in her gut, but tried to hold herself steady. She could do this. She wasn’t some quiet flower anymore, and she refused to run away and hide. “My name is Bernadetta, what’s yours?” 

“Marianne.” she replied, looking down and away. 

“Well that’s a nice name. What are you studying, Marianne?” Bernadetta pointed to the heavy, dust-coated book in front of her company. 

“It’s a collection of stories about the origins of various crests, the first nobles to develop each, and some history of their early descendents.” Marianne explained, shrugging a bit as if to dismiss her own words. 

“Well, that’s really neat!” Bernadetta said, sliding her own books closer to her. “I’m learning about magic from one of my partners. She has been teaching me how to combine it with my archery.” Bernadetta explained. “Do you do any work with magic?” 

“I… yes. I do. I’ve been studying reason for most of my time here.” Bernadetta absolutely lit up as she heard that. 

“Oh wonderful! Maybe we could train together some time. I could show you some archery if you would like! Or my partner Petra has been teaching me a bit about sword fighting, I could show you what I’ve learned.” Bernadetta’s excitement seemed to wane for a moment. “I… I mean she was teaching me…” 

The conversation seemed to falter, falling into an awkward silence as Bernadetta kicked herself for making everything so tense. She was searching for some way to pick the conversation back up, but before she could she heard Marianne pipe up. 

“You shouldn’t really be near me… It’s not safe. I just bring misfortune and suffering to anyone I get close to.” 

Bernadetta looked up at her, wiping a lock of her own hair out of her eyes as she thought about what to say back. 

“You know, I said something similar a lot when I first joined the Eagles…” Bernadetta said, thinking back on those days as if they were decades ago instead of months. “I tried to tell my partners that they should avoid me because of it. Do you want to know what they said? They told me that they were more than capable of defending themselves, and that they had no intention of going anywhere.” Those last words felt a bit bitter in her throat, as she wiped her cheek. She felt like she wasn’t doing a very good job at trying to make friends if she was crying within the first ten minutes of meeting them. “I think a lot of it was me telling myself I wanted to keep them from being hurt, but really I was more afraid of being the one who got hurt… I’m… I’m sorry. This is probably a bit much. I barely know you and yet here I am, telling you my own sob story.” Bernadetta quickly stood, reaching for her books and fidgeting with her sleeve. “I… If you ever decide you want to train together, I’m usually around the training grounds, or the garden with Dorothea. I… I really am sorry. Goodbye.” Bernadetta said, hurriedly flying out the door, kicking herself over and over mentally as she retreated to her and Dorothea's shared dorm. 

Marianne just sat there, dumbstruck as she tried to parse what had happened. She thought she ought to go and check on the girl, but suddenly she realized that it was likely her own fault that things had gone so strangely, and thought better of it, turning back to her book. 

Catherine had been sitting at the back of the dining hall, picking at that same plate of eggs and toast for nearly an hour, by the time the bell rang 8 am that next more. The contents of said plate seemed to only ever move, never shrink. 

Every time one of the doors to the dining hall would open, Catherine would flinch, her head jumping up to look for a head of green hair. No matter how much she reminded herself that the Monastery was Adrestian territory now, and Rhea was about as likely to walk in casually as the goddess herself, the near-heart attack she felt every time those doors clicked open continued nonetheless. She’s been awake for nearly 4 hours, and she felt as exhausted as if she had never slept to begin with. 

It was quite the shock then, when Catherine turned back from looking at one of the entrances to the dining hall to find someone had pulled up a chair across from her. It was Dorothea, her long flowing brown hair pulled back into a rather intricate braid down her back/ Catherine could tell from her cheeks and the puffiness under her eyes that Dorothea had been crying. 

She found herself fighting the urge to try and comfort the poor young woman, trying her best to stamp it down. But there was a part of her that just couldn’t help it. Dorothea had been her friend, was her friend still, if she was willing to sit there. Had it not been for Dorothea, and her ungodly strong slap, she knew she might never have broken free of Rhea’s grip to save her and Byleth’s relationship. 

But at that thought, Catherine felt her resolve settle into a form as dense as iron. Dorothea was her friend, and had saved her from Rhea once. Now it was Catherine’s turn to save Dorothea from her. 

“What are you doing here?” Catherine tried to make it seem as annoyed and uninterested as she could. The look of confusion and hurt that shot across the former songstress's face damn near broke Catherine’s resolve then, but she thought back to Fredrique’s eyes slowly draining of light. It hardened her heart as much as she needed. 

“I was hoping to eat my food. I didn’t realize that I would be such a bother to you.” Dorothea said, too drained from the morning’s send off to hide her feelings. 

“There’s plenty of other chairs and other tables. Pick some.” Catherine said, again playing her voice to be as rude as she could. 

“I had thought perhaps you might have grown tired of being alone, and would like some company, but that seems to have been a mistake on my part.” Dorothea said, picking up her plate and storming off. Catherine took a deep breath, hearing Dorothea mutter the words ‘inconsiderate bitch’ as she walked away. That word shot through her like an arrow.

She stood and walked her dishes to the front. She wasn’t hungry anymore, not that she had been before. 

She wandered out of the dining hall, looking for somewhere quiet where she could sit away from everyone to read her book. There was an old bench she remembered that overlooked the mountains beyond Garreg Mach, and the idea of something pretty to look at was alluring. She set out for the spot, and found it, tucked away behind the Administrative building, overlooking the mountains even more breathtakingly then she had remembered, or perhaps it was just the fact that she was looking at something directly, and not simply through glass. 

She took a seat and pulled the book from the pocket in the back of her worn pants. She flipped to her most recent bookmark, beginning to read about the various types of diseases that could pop up in plant care, and the various means of dealing with them. It had been rather fascinating to her just how many of these treatments turned out to be such simple things as vinegar, or mulch, or even just changing the watering schedule. 

Catherine lifted her head from the book as she looked up to the mountains, watching the clouds drift past her lazily, each in a rush to get nowhere in particular, it seemed. She envied them. 

As she went back to her book, something flashed across her vision, blinding her for a second. Once her vision had returned, she began looking for the cause, finding nothing around her. Another flash, and this time she was able to figure out what direction, at least, it was coming from. She began peaking over the small wall that blocked the bench from the staircase leading down, and beyond those stairs she saw a small graveyard. There, she found the culprit. 

It was a long, silver length of metal jutting out of a chunk of earth that had clearly been dug up recently, although the spots of grass growing over it seemed to indicate not too recently. Catherine swallowed as she felt her stomach plummet. 

It was a handle, and she could guess where it had come from.So Edelgard had kept her word, she was thankful for that. She wanted to go down there, to sit with them and let them know she was ok. But she wasn’t, was she? She couldn’t face them. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

“That really was rather cruel.” She heard a familiar voice say, sitting on the bench beside her. Catherine looked up to see Flayn’s shock of bright green curls bounce a bit as she found a comfortable spot in the worn wood. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Catherine muttered, turning and keeping her eyes trained on the book. 

“You know that I know that that is a lie.” Flayn said, scolding the woman. 

“Maybe.” 

“Dorothea only wanted to help.” Flayn began. “She was heartbroken, and hoped to try and find some sanctuary in her friends. Yet you, who should understand her best of all, managed in two sentences to send her away furious. It would be impressive if it weren’t so heartless.” Flayn said. 

“Did your ‘blood’ tell you that?” Catherine asked, thinking on what Flayn had said for a moment as she slowly grew a horrified look. “Wait, ‘should understand her best’, Dorothea didn't-” 

“Oh, goddess, no. At least not that I’m aware of. Her partner departed this morning for Brigid, on a mission from Edelgard it would seem. I did not intend to imply… that.” Catherine let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, feeling the strangest relief at the answer only for her stomach to turn in guilt. 

“Oh… That is unfortunate.” 

“Yes, it is. Now it would serve you well to go and apologize to her.” Flayn said, swinging her legs, her feet just barely touching the ground. 

“No, that would completely defeat the purpose.” 

“And what, might I ask, would that be?” 

“Keeping her safe, keeping all of them safe.” Catherine looked over her shoulder as she spoke, looking back at the Monastery building. 

“And you intend to keep them safe by aggravating them… how, exactly?” 

“If they hate me, they don’t trust me. If they don’t trust me, then if something happens to me again they don’t make the mistake of hesitating.” Catherine explained, as if it made all the sense in the world. 

“Catherine, if you just told them that they needed to cause pain to break the hold-”

“No, Flayn. This is how it has to be, and this is how it is going to be. If I told them that, then if something happened, they’d be focused on trying to control their swings and snap me out of it, and that could get them killed. I’m not letting anyone else get hurt, and you can’t tell me it’s not going to happen, so unless you can suddenly guarantee that some seed isn’t going to pop because I try to say I lov-” The word caught in her throat again, and she took a deep breath and grit her teeth. “That I care about someone else, then I’m going to make sure that if one does, the people I care about are safe. This is how I do that.” Catherine said, leaving no room for debate. “They aren’t like you. They can’t do anything but kill me if I get taken over again. I need to know they’re at least somewhat prepared… If that means they have to hate me, that’s fine by me. I’d rather they be here to loath me then have them make the mistake of trusting me and ending up down there. Too many good people have died because of me already.” Catherine said, gesturing to the graves below. Flayn sighed, playing with her fingers as she tried to think of some way to make Catherine see reason, to make her see the utter insanity in this foolish plan, but she knew there was little she could do. 

Her friend seemed intent on self destruction, and Flayn could only pray she’d been there to help when Catherine finally started picking up the pieces. She did however want to at least try to help. 

“You know…” Flayn offered, looking up at Catherine and then back at the cover of her book. “I have noticed no one has been taking care of the greenhouse, as of late. It’s become rather overrun with weeds, and a few of the plants seem in dire need of care.” The weak flicker of a smile that brough to Catherine’s face gave Flayn some sort of hope, and a short while later the two were walking off to try and track down the key for the tool shed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so this week's chapter is a LOT of emotional shit, and I kinda want to apologize but at the same time I know some of y’all are just gluttons for punishment. But I promise that it will get better someday for our poor dumb homosexuals, some damn day. (It’s literally the chapter after next but you didn’t hear that for me). I hope everyone enjoyed this kind of bitter sweet update, and lemme hear y’alls thoughts and theories in the comments! I love your feedback, and it makes my day to reply and chat with y’all.


	25. Chapter 25: The Give Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months passes in the blink of an eye, and the Black Eagles get a lesson in the fact the simply pushing pain down and trying to pretend it isn't there only leads to it exploding out when it finally does escape. Catherine faces the results of her self destructive acts. Healing can be painful, although that is generally meant more 'emotionally painful', but I suppose a shovel upside the head also works. Also, finally some damn happy moments in this war, even if there's quite a bit of angst to get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Here's this weeks update! Hot off the Gay Presses! 
> 
> Not a whole lot of real notes going into this weeks update, gonna keep it short and sweet. 
> 
> So, I'm going to put a warning here that there is a brief sequence where in Catherine has a flashback. Nothing is shown, but some things are implied that folks who find allusions to SA difficult to read might consider skipping. The are is marked with the usual dash lines. I hope everyone enjoys this weeks update. As always, if there's some shit folks feel I ought to mark or warn about, lemme know. 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage

Late one afternoon, Ashe landed atop one of the smaller buildings on the edge of Garreg Mach’s campus, hopping off of Seteth and tossing her bag down to a waiting knight. The building had been converted into a scout’s den, and along with her partner Ashe had already become one of the most active scouts in the Monastery.

It was grueling, but she knew she couldn’t give up her search, not until she found Byleth. She had to find her. Aside from Leonie and Seteth, Byleth was all she had left, and it was clear her pseudo-sister’s absence was starting to get to Leonie as well. She was sleeping less, and when she did she tossed and turned with nightmares. She would end a day of riding out in the country wiping her cheeks, claiming the puffiness of her eyes was from the wind in her face, but Ashe was a good scout, and Church soldiers weren’t all she watched for when she and Seteth were in the air. She was concerned for her partners sake, but she did what she could. They had forgone two tents in favor of one when they traveled. Leonie claimed it was for efficiency’s sake, and Ashe didn’t bother to question. She was happy to sleep each night with Leonie in her arms, and she knew her being there helped her partner not feel so alone, which seemed to help the nightmares. 

Ashe waited outside of the building until she saw Leonie sauntering over. 

“Thanks for waiting up, sweets.” Leonie said, leaning in and giving Ashe a peck on the cheek as they began on their way. 

“Of course.” 

Ashe had taken to wearing a pair of heavy canvas pants that were a heavy blue and a similar colored jacket that had a large hood. It allowed for a more natural blending-in effect when in the dark. She’d also found the shorts she used to wear rather, well, childish in a way that didn’t seem to fit anymore. Her bow was slung over one shoulder, and her axe hung from her hip, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. It was better to keep it that way while out scouting. There were still groups of stragglers that had gotten broken away from the main force of the church, left scattered throughout the now-empire-controlled territory, so being armed and at the ready was a necessity. 

Leonie, in contrast, wore a bright orange blouse under an even brighter jacket. The chest of the jacket was a tanned leather and hung unfastened over her shirt, and the sleeves puffed out, providing some padding under the armor she wore on her shoulders. The orange was so bright it was almost begging to be noticed. She had her bow on her back, and a quiver of arrows at her hip. 

Ashe passed through the heavy wooden door that led to the Audience Chamber, now converted into a sort of makeshift command center for both the war and the Black Eagle Strike Force. Even while many of the others loathed the name, Ashe had to admit there was a certain ring to it. They had moved a massive oak table from a room on the third floor, which now was placed in the center of the room, at the end of the table, looking up as she saw them coming her way, was Edelgard. There was a moment where she set aside her current paperwork, and looked back up to her former classmates expectantly, even if she had tried her best to not let herself become too hopeful. 

“What have you to report?” Edelgard asked. 

“There is approximately twenty Knights of Seiros encamped in a meadery six miles north of here. I was able to scout out their armaments, and they seem to be limited to swords, lances, three archers and two mages, but it would be wise to dispose of them quickly before they can rally any larger numbers or equipment.” Edelgard nodded, jotting down her notes. 

“We disposed of a trio of Kingdom spies that were moving here from Faergus, and were able to find a few names in one of their bags indicating potential contacts they were considering here in the Monastery.” Leonie threw a small leather pouch filled with silver and a piece of paper with names scrawled on it onto the desk. “No one of any import, however it appears a pair of guards regularly working in the armory were indicated.”

“Thank you, both of you. This is valuable input. I trust you turned your remaining notes and any maps to the scouting bureau?” Ashe nodded at Edelgard’s question. 

“Is that what we’re calling it now? What happened to Hubert’s ‘Ministry of Military Intelligence’?” Leonie asked, and Edelgard felt a tired smile cross her lips. 

“Ferdinand thought it sounded too militaristic, and worried it might be damaging to public relations.” Ashe looked beyond confused. 

“We’re in the middle of a war, that is by definition...” 

“Yes, Ashe, I said the exact same thing. But, he was incredulous enough about taking a job in my cabinet to begin with, so I have decided to indulge some of his...odder proclivities.” Edelgard said, resting her hands in her lap. “Do you have anything else to report?” Ashe knew what she was asking. It was the same question that had been smuggled in under the innocent guise of ensuring that they had said all they needed to for the past month and a half since this war had begun. She wanted to know about Byleth. 

“Nothing, Emperor Edelgard.” Ashe said, earning a tired sigh and a slight dip in the corners of Edelgard’s mouth. 

“Very well. Take a week to recuperate, and then we will send you out again.”

“I would rather restock Seteth overnight and return to my post at dawn, Emperor Edelgard.” Ashe declared. The Emperor in question shot the young woman a curious look. 

“Ashe, you’ve had only 4 days of rest since this war began, you should take time to yourself, and -” Leonie cut in. 

“I agree with Ashe. Our mounts can rest overnight, and we will ride at dawn.” Edelgard sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

“No, you will do no such thing. Not only is that sort of workload not good for you, that is not good for either of your mounts, and horses as well as wyvern’s are not plentiful enough to be wasted. You will take time to allow you, and your mounts, to rest. That is an order, and not up for debate.” Edelgard said sternly. 

“But Emperor Edelgard-” Ashe began. 

“I said it is not up for debate. Now, enjoy your leave and get the hell out of my office, that is an order.” The two looked to each other, deciding the battle was not one they were likely to win, and moved for the door. “Ashe, on second thought, I need to discuss a personal matter with you for a moment. Leonie, you may wait outside if you wish.” Another shared glance, and the two split. 

“What did you need to discuss?” Ashe asked mechanically. 

“I have something I need to prepare you for, regarding one of our current occupants here in the Monastery.” Edelgard said, trying to find a way to soften the blow. “It’s Catherine.” Ashe went stiff, and her eyes grew visibly colder at the mention of her name. 

“Who has she hurt this time?” 

“Noone. That is exactly what I wanted to inform you of. Catherine has been released from her protective holding, and is now living among the general population. I know tensions are high and I-” 

“She was released?! You let that damned traitor walk free around the Monastery? Are you an idiot?” Ashe burst out, pausing for a moment. “I… my apologies, Emperor. But this is a beyond-foolish action.” 

“Funnily enough, she said much of the same.” Edelgard mused, looking at Ashe as she could still see some resemblance in the two’s mannerisms, no matter how obviously Ashe tried to suppress those little cues she had learned from the woman now. Even as she stood there, trying not to visibly scowl, Edelgard saw the slightest twitch of her upper lip into a sneer, and Edelgard remembered that same expression of Catherine’s face a half-dozen times since she had met her. Goddess, that felt like a lifetime ago. 

“At least tell me she is being kept under guard.” Ashe pleaded. 

“No more than any other occupant. The entrances and exits are closely guarded, and she has given us no reason to distrust her.” 

“No reason other than blatantly betraying us and siding with the enemy.” Ashe declared. 

“Ashe, I would remind you to consider your words carefully. Catherine is among the residents of this monastery now, and that is that. The woman has barely spent an hour since her release anywhere but her dormitory and the greenhouse. She is no threat to anyone.” 

“You don’t know that!” 

“Yes, I do.” Edelgard’s voice was unwavering in a way she had rarely been since the day they took the Monastery, and Ashe knew there would be no swaying her on that point. “Now, I told you this out of respect as my friend, so you are not blindsided by it. So please, do not do anything stupid.” Ashe sighed. 

“Fine. Understood, Emperor Edelgard.” 

“Ashe, please stop with the titles. I am still Edelgard.” She pointed out. Ashe simply nodded. “You may leave.” Ashe turned and quickly marched out of the chamber. Leonie stood by the stairwell, watching as her partner wiped at her cheek with the palm of her hand, blowing past her and down the stairs without a second’s hesitation. Leonie followed her. 

“Ashe, sweets, baby, what’s the matter?” Leonie asked, grabbing Ashe by her arm as they walked through the hall. 

“Not here…” Ashe said, and Leonie let go, following her. The poor girl barely held herself together as they made their way to their shared dormitory room. The second the door was closed, Ashe collapsed onto the bed, head in her hands as she wept with all the might her lungs could give. Leonie moved to her side, rubbing her back as she tried to help her calm down. 

“It’s going to be ok, baby girl. What happened?” Leonie asked, hugging her close and resting her chin on her partner’s shoulder. 

“They let her go...she’s just out there, somewhere in the Monastery.” 

“Who?” 

“Catherine!” Ashe sobbed into Leonie’s shoulder as she tried to pull herself back together. 

“Oh goddess, Ashe…” 

“I can’t believe Edelgard would be such a fool, so damned stupid! She can’t be trusted.” Ashe said weakly. “She’s making the same mistake I did…” 

“Baby, don’t say that.” Leonie tried to console her partner, but it seemed as if Ashe barely heard her. 

“I trusted her… I knew what she’d done to my family, and I still trusted her!” Ashe sobbed into Leonie’s jacket. “I… I thought maybe she’d changed, I thought she had learned when to stand up, but she just turned her blade on us the moment she was ordered to. I saw her clutching her sword on that battlefield, and all I could think was just… she was helping me buy dresses a few months ago… I could remember when I told her everything that she told me she’d do whatever it took to protect me, she even threatened to feed people to Seteth if they were mean to me.” Ashe seemed to laugh at that memory, for a moment the happy thought overwhelming her tears, before reality came crashing down and showed how empty those words had been. “She promised to be there for me. I let her mean so much to me, even thought of her as the closest thing to a mom I’d had in years, and she just gave all that up so easily… and I just realized in that moment that behind all her words, I was nothing to her. I meant nothing to her.”

Ashe spent a long portion of that night sobbing into her partner’s shirt, until finally her exhaustion caught up to her, and she fell asleep. Leonie let her sleep as she was, doing her best to not disturb her while she at least undid her own pants to try and get a bit more comfortable. After that, Leonie wrapped her arms around Ashe’s midsection, hugging her close as she drifted off to sleep. 

Later that afternoon Edelgard stormed out of the small room just off of the Audience Chamber that had become her personal meeting area, Hubert fast behind her. 

“Lady Edelgard, I am only speaking to you as a friend who holds your health as a close concern.” Hubert said quickly, trying to keep pace. Even with her short stature, Edelgard was fast when she wanted to be. She wheeled around, poking Hubert in the chest practically shoving him back with a single finger. 

“My health is something I can handle perfectly well, Hubert!” She began, pulling her hand back and resting it on her hip. “I do not need you to lecture me like a child about proper eating habits.” 

“Lady Edelgard, I rarely see you at meals in the dining hall more than once or perhaps twice a week. The Strike Force is beginning to worry, as am I.” Hubert said, his calm composure seeming to falter. She saw the man who had stood beside her for so long seem to slump just a bit, and she saw a brother, barely 2 years older than her, that had been one of her only friends throughout this entire ordeal. She let out a long and slow sigh. 

“I am simply busy, Hubert. I find myself getting lost in the mountains of work left on my desk and… things slip my mind. I will try to be better about ensuring that you all do not worry. But do not let your concerns for my sake distract from the missions at hand.” Edelgard said sternly, Hubert seemed to reinflate just a bit, and nodded with the smallest of smiles on his lips. “I will not have my forgetfulness lead to you all being distracted from the war effort.” 

“Of course, Lady Edelgard.” Hubert said, his thin lips pulling into an almost imperceivable smile. A curt nod later he was marching off, somewhat relieved at having made some progress, if only some. 

Edelgard let out another long sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she returned to her desk. She had much to do, working through the mountains of plans, orders, and letters that seemed to never shrink, regardless of her dutiful work to rid herself of it. 

Byleth sat at a table alongside Edelgard, sipping tea casually as she just finished listening to some story about a duchess being caught sleeping with one of her guardsmen in an inn in some port town. If things continued to flow as they had for her originally, this was about a week before Flayn would turn up missing. even with Edelgard being in another class, Byleth watched as her dream-self and Edelgard seemed to find a happy bond. They were friendly enough, as far as Byleth could tell, and from the way she watched herself speak and act around the girl, it became more and more clear that this version of her had no idea who Edelgard was. 

She held the Sword of the Creator on her hip, and she noticed the occasional glance in it’s direction from Edelgard. Byleth had, until watching herself brandish that weapon, had no idea that it could extend out, breaking the blade into pieces like the links of a chain and lashing out at their opponents. She’d have bothered to learn how to wield a sword properly if she had known it would give her that kind of ability when she had first found it. Catherine could have trained her, as well. She enjoyed that thought. 

Speaking of Catherine, the knight in question seemed to have taken a bit more time to get involved then she had for the real Byleth, but now she was a part of the Deer, having joined in the aftermath of the Rite of Rebirth. It was much less blatantly romantic between them, but she noticed a few familiar quirks that hinted at that possibility still burning somewhere beneath the surface. There was just something in that cocky smirk that seemed hungry in a way Byleth missed dearly. Byleth wondered if there’d ever be a time where she would get to see her Catherine again, or if she was simply doomed to watch these nightmares for all eternity. 

Unlike the previous times, this dream had not seemed content to just mock her with some twisted image and then end. Instead it flowed on and on and on, unending, and Byleth watched this twisted monotone version of herself go through the months of training and fighting alongside the students of the Golden Deer. They were actually rather sweet kids, even if they were constantly off put by the emotionlessness Byleth exuded. Byleth was, however, saddened by how things seemed to be going with Leonie. She seemed so much less willing to open up to this version of Byleth, leaving Byleth without any real connection to one of her partners, barely ever speaking to another outside of sundays, and with no real bond with her little sister. This felt far worse than any hell Rhea had ever threatened during her sermons. 

——————————————————————————————————————-  
Catherine felt her body drenched in sweat, the salt of it stinging her back along the thin lines of the scratch marks she could feel being dug in by razor sharp nails. No, not nails, claws. She hated the voice that filled her ears with mewling praise and encouragement, knowing damn well that she wouldn’t remember any of it, and that she didn’t need to say a word to make Catherine do what she wanted. But it was the words she whispered that made it all crash into her conscious hell. The sickly sweet tone of Rhea’s voice filled her ears and made a promise that made her equal parts ill and terrified. 

“I will make all their painful memories go away. We can go back to how it all was, my obedient little bitch.” 

The words sent Catherine shooting up in the bed, drenched in cold sweat that hung off of her like sheets of ice. She was panting, struggling for air, and she looked around to see herself alone in the room, the bed an absolute mess, and she knew she likely wasn’t much better. There was the faintest glint of dawn off in the distance, piercing the darkness with thin shards of light. The nightmares only seemed to become worse as time had gone on. They were more and more detailed, more and more real, with each passing day.   
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She moved off of the bed, crawling across the section of it that she always did to get to and out from her side. She always slept on her side, pressed up against the wall, while the other side was where the actual owner of the room had alway slept. Even after all this time, nearly six months of war, she refused to sleep in that spot. 

She sat up, stretching out and hearing a small collection of pops from her tired joints before standing and walking to the stacks of clothing she’d left neatly arranged on the desk. She grabbed a sports bra, an undershirt, a checkered cotton work shirt and a pair of heavy blue canvas pants that, even with all the care she took to wash them, were stained green and brown at the knees. She grabbed a towel and made her way out, aiming for the bathhouse to start her day as she had done every day for the past half of a year. 

She couldn’t believe it had already been that long since they’d released her from their ‘protective custody’. She felt an odd sense of pride at how well she’d managed to keep herself away from those among the Monastery who seemed dead set to throw themselves with reckless abandon at her, all for the sake of some friendship they held with a woman that, as far as Catherine was concerned, no longer existed. Perhaps never had existed at all. 

The water of her bath, as always, was specked with dirt and chunks of plant that had managed to cling to her body through the night when she finally crawled out of it, avoiding her reflection as she hurriedly dressed for the day. The only time she looked in the mirror any more was the weekly session of hair butchering she performed with a pair of plant trimmers from the green house. She had been offered help, from several people, in cutting it so it might look a bit more presentable, but that wasn’t a concern of hers, it wasn’t the point. 

But she couldn’t blame them for that, they didn’t know. How could they? She never told them, and if she had her way she never would. 

She stopped by the room to place her nightclothes into the small hamper in the corner, grabbing the key to the tool shed that hung off of her wall before moving out toward the building in question. She ignored the now heavily dust-covered pile of broken glass in the corner of the room. She’d still refused to visit the grave. Every time she had marched toward it, the sight of that silver handle, nearly 4 feet long and visibly narrowing at the end into an uneven slant with a sharp tip that was buried in the dirt would make her turn and flee. It looked like a crude spear, but it felt more like an arrow pointing to her greatest failure. After a week of trying, she’d learned it was best to leave things be. 

The door to the tool shed opened with the same pop and click it had for months now, and Catherine found solace in that sound, that routine. She knew it was foolish, but the greenhouse was more of a home to her at this point then the room she slept in ever really would be without… her there. 

The tool shed was a bit more sparse than it might have been prior to the war, but Catherine didn’t mind that one bit. The few sensible people in Edelgard’s Strike Force had demanded all blades and similar equipment be removed if she was to have access to it. Edelgard had acquiesced, and so the tools that were left were little more than shovels, hoes, trowels, rakes, and a few scattered pruning shears that had been left with some protest. Catherine grabbed a shovel, watering can, and some scattered seed packets, spinning the shovel in her fingers like a baton as she moved to the greenhouse. She was getting good at that, with all the practice she got throughout the day. Although she had nearly lost her grip and smashed a window in the greenhouse open a week ago when she wasn’t paying attention, so she tried to be a bit more careful with it for fear of getting herself bashed in the head by accident. 

The door to the greenhouse itself was never locked. Catherine opened it and saw a young woman in blue, who Flayn had told her some time ago was named Marianne of house Edmond, sitting on the corner of a flower bed, looking at some small plants in the tail end of their bloom. They exchanged a brief nod before Catherine took her spot on the opposite end of the greenhouse, Marrianne had never tried to talk to her, and Catherine appreciated that. She was probably around 20, with her long blue hair always pulled back into a tight crown braid that ran around her head. She was pretty. 

Catherine hadn’t seen her for a few weeks, and was actually a little surprised to see her there, but it wasn’t like she was about to ask her where she had been. But still, Catherine could admit it had been a lonely few weeks when Marianne had been gone. It was nice, having someone around, even if they never spoke a word to each other. But the fact they never spoke was the only reason she even felt safe enough to be around another person. She figured that, were something to happen, Marianne would have no reason to hesitate against her just because they lurked around the greenhouse at the same time occasionally. 

The planter where Catherine was working, tucked away in the very far left corner of the greenhouse,had originally been her absolute favorite. It had been full of bright flowers in various shades of blue, green and silver, they had smelled absolutely lovely. But now those flowers were long-dead, having rotted away to nothing less than two months after she had started. She missed those flowers. A few of the other beds bordering that planter were starting to look similar as well, but while she was worried, she had nowhere near the energy to stress about such things. Even when the garden work was light, she felt exhausted. Whether from her lack of sleep or her constant twitching whenever she heard the door open or Marianne move just a bit too quickly, she didn’t know, but some days just crawling out of that bed in the morning felt like an impossible task. 

Flayn walked with Mercedes throughout the halls of the Monastery, as they did every afternoon when they were both on the grounds, and not away on this or that scattered mission. Flayn had just come back from a small scouting mission, along with Ashe, Leonie, and a few other assorted Strike Force members to provide “muscle” in case they ran into alliance troops while scouting out Lysithea’s family’s territory.

“So, how were things in my absence?” Flayn asked, her clothing having changed slightly since the start of the war nearly six months ago. Her overly-fluffy dress had been replaced with a much simpler, much less ‘poofy’ black gown that was tied at her waist with two lengths of fabric, one gold and one red. Her sleeves started out rather form fitting at the shoulder, before ending as wide, baggy openings around her forearms. It made for much better attire when out during missions in the summer heat, not having to deal with all the ruffles and petticoats. 

“Oh, not much happened, it was surprisingly peaceful. I found myself getting involved in a reading group for some of the younger children, and had a rather wonderful time reading them stories, it was quite adorable. Although most of them were stories about things like the King of Liberation, and well…” Flayn nodded, wishing she could take Mercedes’ hand in her own. But she still felt dread at the potential for her blood to do some wicked deed, even if she knew Mercedes appreciated contact at times like this. Damned if she did, damned if she did not.

“I understand. It’s… difficult, speaking of such stories, coming from the church. Even if we know so much of what we learned was false, or at least not the whole truth, it is still, well, bitter, in a sense.” Mercedes nodded as Flayn spoke. 

“I suppose that’s a good way to put it.” Mercedes said softly. Something seemed to light a candle above her head. “Oh! Lady Catherine visited the healing bay while you were gone. She left you a small basket of fruit she’d picked from the greenhouse. Some of it is still fresh if you’d like to have it. Although I must apologize, for I might have eaten all of the pomegranates she had brought you.” Flayn smiled, but seemed to become a bit concerned. 

“It is fine, Mercedes. Did you speak to Catherine while she was there? What was she like?” 

“We didn’t speak, no. Well, I tried to, but when I asked her how the plants were doing, she simply gave me this… glare and walked away, didn’t say a word, just walked out.” Flayn looked disappointed. “Is there something that I’m missing?” 

“It’s… not my place to speak about it. But Catherine seems to be holding tight to a stubborn, stupid plan and I worry about her. But at the same time I have no way to help her. If what she’s doing makes her feel better, then what can I do to stop her?” Mercedes nodded. 

“I see. That is most certainly a difficult place to be. Sadly there are times where it must simply be a matter of letting an awful plan play out, and being there for them when it is done.” Flayn sighed. 

“I have settled on as much as my plan, but I just wish I could help more now. She’s stubborn, and refuses to admit it, but I can tell she is In pain, that she’s scared.” As they were talking, a man with a large helmet under his arm left the Audience chambers, bumping into Mercedes as he walked past. 

“Oh, excuse me...sir…” Mercedes seemed to go quiet, and Flayn looked to see that the man was a taller, blonde who held the helmet of the death knight under one arm. 

It was Jeritza, a man who had been well known on the campus prior to the war for his strange mask, which now seemed absent. The fact he was also the person who had kidnapped her earlier that very year was simply an awkward fact Flayn tried her best to suppress. 

“Mercedes, are you ok?” Flayn asked. Mercedes seemed to shake as if from a trance. 

“Yes, I’m so sorry, Flayn, I just, well, I felt like I was seeing a ghost…” As they were about to move on, they heard a strangled ‘ow!’ from the room behind them and both moved to the door, looking in to see Edelgard. She was clutching her hand, a letter opener thrown onto the desk, a not-insignificant amount of blood on the tip of the blade. 

“Lady Edelgard, are you ok?” Flayn asked, running up beside the emperor, pulling a handkerchief from seemingly nowhere and wrapping it around the woman’s palm.” 

“Yes, I am fine, Flayn. Just a foolish slip when I was not paying attention as I should have. Please do not worry yourself, I have suffered far worse.” Flayn ignored her, moving the cloth away, letting the energy flow to her hand as she began applying a healing spell, the wound slowly closing before their eyes. 

“That is… rather impressive.” Edelgard said as the pain from the wound slowly subsided. “I’ve always been curious about healing magic.” She said as an afterthought. 

“I could teach you some time, if you would like.” Flayn offered, still in the process of stitching the wound back together, leaving little but blood and the opening in Edelgard’s glove as evidence. “It’s quite different from what many people seem to think when they first start to study.” 

“How do you mean?” Edelgard asked, Mercedes felt a bit awkward, as if the two had forgotten she was there entirely, but seeing Edelgard accept help after 6 months of watching her stubbornly carry herself on spite and refusal to quit alone, she didn’t want to risk spoiling the moment. She also found her mind wandering back to Jeritza, and that strange familiarity she felt having seen him without his mask. 

“Well, everyone seems to think healing magic is like a giving process, where you take a part of your energy and let it be given over, making someone else whole at the cost of yourself. It’s such a flawed sense of how healing magic works, that many people struggle to even learn the basics. They exhaust and drain themselves before they’ve done more than form a scab over the wound.” Flayn said, a little giddy at having an excuse to talk about one of her favorite subjects in the world. 

“Well, then what is it like?” Edelgard asked, inquisitorial nature getting the better of her. 

“Well, if you’re doing it properly, healing magic shouldn’t be a give-and-take, but an exchange of sorts. You offer the person your energy, it connects with their own, and the two resonate together in a way that allows your energy to boost their’s, and help them grow themselves back together with the healers help, support and guidance. It’s a draining process, so it’s understandable why new student’s make that mistake, but it’s an important difference to note.” Flayn said, letting go of Edelgard’s hand. It had been healed for quite some time, but neither had realized until Flayn finished her point. 

“Well.” Edelgard began, looking at the slight hint of a scar following the gash in her glove. “Perhaps I might just take you up on that offer. I’ve been told my health is of great concern to some, so I might be better off knowing that sort of magic.” Flayn absolutely beamed. 

“Oh fantastic! Join me in the medical bay, tomorrow evening! I’ll teach you some basic exercises that you can work on, even at your desk!” Before Edelgard could say she was too busy, Flayn seemed to flee from the room, Mercedes giving a slightly apologetic shrug.It appeared Edelgard had another appointment she would need to inform Hubert to schedule around tomorrow evening. 

“Um… Lady Edelgard, I was curious if I might be able to borrow a moment of your time, while I’m here.” Mercedes seemed more nervous than Edelgard had ever seen her act when she wasn’t around Flayn. 

“Of course, Mercedes. How can I be of assistance?”

“Well… We walked past the door before we heard you yell, and I stumbled into Jeritza as he was leaving. I was just curious, after seeing him, if I might be able to ask you where he was going. I’m afraid I have need to speak to him.” Mercedes said, earning another curious gaze. 

“Lord Jeritza is on his way to the stables. I have had a… request from an allied lord for his assistance in handling the war effort in the south. He should be leaving any moment now, so I apologize, but you may need to wait a few months before he is able to return.” Mercedes looked disappointed as she heard the news. 

“I see… Edelgard, if I may ask, does the name Emil mean anything to you?” 

Byleth stood in the oh-so-familiar throne room, sword of the creator in hand as she charged toward the Flame Emperor, whose identity was still hidden behind her mask. The man who had been apparently leading the troops alongside Edelgard, some pompous ass with oily brown hair and eyes more snakelike than even Hubert, tried to stop her but Byleth saw an arrow lodge into his side, distracting him just long enough to allow her to sink her blade into his chest. As she pulled the blade out, she turned to see Claude, bow in hand, running up behind her. 

“I got your back, teach. Keep going!” Claude said, sending another arrow flying into the chest of a knight past the Flame Emperor. Byleth had wondered for some time if this was her first time through the whole ordeal, but that was the moment that she knew that she was certainly watching her first steps into this battle. 

The voracity as Byleth watched herself swing the sword of the creator, the blade extending out into a long, sharp whip and carving a deep gash along the front of Edelgard’s armor, that was when she was certain. Byleth watched herself block the swinging axe heading for her, wrenching her blade over and spinning around Flame Emperor with practiced elegance, in the process winding up a swing. The red-and-white porcelain of the mask had just barely become visible when the sword smashed into the side of Edelgard’s head. 

The mask was sent in shattered pieces to the ground, and Byleth saw her body stiffen at the sight of a bloodied, wounded Edelgard kneeling before her. Claude’s eyes went wide as he saw the girl before him. Edelgard clutched the long, bleeding wound now carved across her cheek as she looked up at Byleth. 

“So, my friend, it appears our end has come.” 

“Edelgard?” Claude asked, not seeming to believe it. “This has to be some kind of sick joke. The Flame Emperor is Edelgard?” Rhea walked up behind Byleth, resting a hand on her shoulder as she looked down at the kneeling woman. 

“You have disappointed me, Edelgard. To think that a descendant of House Hresvelg would dare betray the holy church.” Rhea released her grip on Byleth. “Professor, kill Edelgard at once. She is a danger to all of Fódlan. Such a rebellious heart cannot be allowed to keep beating.” Byleth wanted to scream for her to go to the hell she loved oh-so-much to condemn others to. She wanted to grab Edelgard under her arm, lift her up and drag her out of that horrid pit of a chamber as she had what felt like years ago now with her own class, but instead she watched in the same voiceless horror as hands that were not her own wrapped around the handle of the blade. A blast of magic shot between her and Edelgard before she could strike, and by the time she had finally dodged out of the way, Edelgard was standing and backing away slowly, Hubert close beside her. At least she had him, Byleth took solace in that. 

“I have achieved my objective. I will retreat. Farewell, Professor. If we meet again, it will be on the battlefield.” Edelgard seemed to smile to Byleth until those last few words, before turning and disappearing in a flash. 

“To flee is futile, wicked girl. The Church of Seiros will raise its entire army against you, until you have been captured and punished! You have defiled the Holy Tomb, dishonored the goddess, and humiliated your brethren. That crime will never be erased, even if you burn in the eternal flames, and spill all of your blood into the goddess's soil” Rhea said through grit teeth. Byleth wanted nothing more than to bury that damned sword into the woman’s spine, and laugh as she did it. 

The Black Eagles sat around the dinner table, hearing the shamelessly embellished retelling of the latest mission Ferdinand and a few others had just returned from earlier that week. 

“Ferdinand, the Holy Kingdom did not unleash a damned dragon. It was one of those crest beasts with wings. That’s all.” Leonie said, tossing a chunk of fish at the nobleman and watching the utter horror in his eyes as it landed on his coat, smearing the pale grey sauce across the bright red fabric as it drifted down his arm. 

“Excuse me!” Ferdinand lamented, more agog at the attack on his story than his wardrobe. “There seems little difference between the two, as far as I can see, so I’ll have you bite your tongue, miss Leonie!” Ferdinand shot the girl a playful glare, one returned in kind. 

“Why would she, she has Ashe for that.” Caspar said, dodging a thrown butterknife from the orange haired woman in question, laughing at the rage and embarrassment in her eyes. 

“Sweetheart that doesn’t even make any sense.” Linhardt said, popping a chunk of his own fish into his mouth as he looked over at the utterly betrayed face Caspar now wore. 

“Ooooh, it seems Linhardt has gone and earned himself a place in the doghouse.” Lysithea teased, her plate free of fish but having a not-insignificant helping of pasta.

“Hey, you pipe down, shrimp.” Dorothea mocked, earning an absolutely piercing glare from the younger woman. “Oh, cry me a river, kid. Linhardt is just being honest. That’s good for a relationship.” Dorothea said, smiling over to Bernadetta, who was just hoping to make it out of this meal without being hit with seafood. 

“Can we please not fight?” Marrianne asked, her plate almost untouched. Hubert gave her a reassuring look. 

“Miss Edmond, I am afraid to admit this is how almost every meal goes with this lot when the entire company is in one place. The fact a brawl has not developed yet is a sign of either divine intervention, or a modicum of self-control on the part of the more rambunctious lot. Truth be told I could not say which is less likely.” Marianne giggled a bit, and Hubert noticed an almost hurt expression from Ferdinand. “There there, dear.” He gave the lord a pat on the back, leaning over and placing a peck on his cheek as an apology. 

“Goddess have mercy, Hubert, get a room.” Ashe piped up, ignoring the rage in Hubert’s eyes as he turned to her. 

“Calm yourself, Miss Duran, I do think you’re getting a bit carried away.” Hubert replied. 

“For you, Hubert, that was the equivalent of third base. I fear my poor eyes will never unsee the corrupting horror’s you have thrust upon them.” Ashe feigned a traumatized, horrified expression, and Leonie couldn’t help but almost lose her balance laughing at the utter malice in the Vestra’s eyes. Ashe made a mental note to be careful with her food around Hubert for the next few days. 

“Hey, not everyone can be so cavalier with their affection as others.” Flayn piped up, sticking her tongue out at Ashe when she rolled her eyes. 

“Oh please, we all know there’s someone you’d just adore to be as cavalier as those two with, little missy.” Dorothea added, watching the green haired woman, as well as the taller blonde beside her both look away, going red in the cheeks. 

“I wouldn’t say we’re, like, that bad.” Leonie muttered under her breath. 

“Oh really now?” Caspar asked, listing out locations while counting them on his fingers. “Hmmmm, let’s see. Training grounds, in the library, behind the scouts office, in the stables, behind the stables, on top of the stables, on the bridge to the church, and… Ferdinand, am I forgetting any others?”

“Oh, yes! There’s the training arena, twice, and that balcony on the third floor of the Administrative building. Oh! I’d almost forgotten about the classroom!” Leonie was absolutely beat red, either with rage or embarrassment as Ferdinand helped finish the list. 

“Um, I’m sorry but I seem to be missing something. What are you all talking about?” Mercedes asked, thankful to no longer be the center of attention. 

“Oh, it’s really nothing Mercedes, they’re just being shitheads.” Leonie tried to assure her, but Lysithea yelled over her. 

“Oh, those are all the places the guards have caught those two making out.” The short girl said, a beaming grin pointed in Leonie’s direction as Ashe just slammed her forehead into the table dramatically. 

“I can’t imagine how terrible you two must be while out on scouting missions. How you get anything done is beyond me.” Linhardt muttered, his two teammates both refused to meet anyone else’s gaze. 

“I’d really you rather not ‘imagine’ anything of the sort, Linhardt.” Leonie said under her breath. 

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me. The two of you are about as far away from those kinds of thoughts as possible.” Linhardt clarified.

“I fear that’s a bit too much information about your proclivities, my friend.” Ferdinand said, earning a shrug from Linhardt. “Oh! Give me just a moment. Catherine!” The entire table, excluding Ferdinand, Flayn and Mercedes went stiff as Ferdinand called the name out. The former knight had been walking about as far from the table as physically possible, a plate of food in her dirt-smeared hands. She seemed to go still, as if praying if she didn’t move no one would see her. “Catherine! Come here, join us for dinner!” Several sets of eyes, some murderous, some pitiful, some confused, and a few seemed mixes of the three, settled on Ferdinand and Catherine in that moment. 

Catherine hazarded a look at the table, seeing Flayn looking at her with a glint of hope in her eyes. Ferdinand, even after all this time, had never seemed to give up on her, however in his eyes Catherine saw the quiet desperation of a man starting to lose hope. He’d never done something so outlandish and blatant as this, calling her out in front of the entire Strike Force to join them, but perhaps that desperation explained it. Dorothea was facing her, and Catherine saw something like an angry pity in the way she peered her way. Leonie looked over her shoulder at Catherine, concerned, but not unwelcoming. Hubert seemed unbothered, but curious.

Catherine wondered if maybe she should join them. Goddess, she wanted to. The way they all looked, it reminded her of better times, of before everything had gone to hell, back when her life had made some semblance of sense. For just a moment, Catherine found herself ready to walk to the table. 

But one thing stood in her way, the absence of one specific pair of green eyes looking back at her. Ashe had her back turned to Catherine, letting her see her silver hair which was pulled into a messy braid down the back of her blue hooded jacket. Her entire body screamed a demand to not be bothered, to be left alone. Catherine realized Ashe seemed to be the only one taking the threat of her seriously. She was proud of her for that. Even when she hated her, Ashe seemed to be the only one to really understand her. 

She set her plate on a nearby table, leaving it abandoned as she walked promptly out of the dining room. She needed to be somewhere else. She needed to be back in her greenhouse. 

“Oh, I suppose she must have forgotten something.” Ferdinand said, a bit awkwardly as he tried to salvage the moment with a chuckle. 

“Perhaps.” Dorothea said, turning back to her meal and feeling Bernadetta squeeze her hand in an attempt to reassure her. 

“I wonder where she is off to.” Caspar commented, shoveling a fork full of fish into his mouth. 

“It doesn’t matter. Anywhere else but here is fine by me.” Ashe muttered to herself. 

“Ashe, you don’t mean that.” Flayn said flatly. 

“The hell I don’t!” Ashe said louder, shooting the young woman a death glare. “This is none of your damned business, Flayn. I’d thank you to stay out of it. And Ferdinand, I’d thank you to keep me out of whatever pity project you’re working on with that traitor.” Ashe spit. 

“I would highly recommend that you not call my friend something so callous as that in my presence, Ashe.” Ferdinand’s teeth were clenched tight, and Hubert moved his gloved hand onto his partner’s to try to settle him. 

“Then I would highly recommend you make a higher quality of friends!” Ashe shouted, slamming her fist onto the table and standing up, not caring that there were dozens of eyes on her. “That woman not only betrayed my brother, but she betrayed us, turned her blade on all of us that she had called friends, then onto her own damned partner. Everyone seems to have forgotten that, as if she has just become the kindly old fucking gardener! She’s a killer, a traitor, and a bastard, and if you’re going to fraternize with her, do it damned far away from me!” Ashe stormed out, nearly knocking over the bench she had been sat on as she tore out of the Dining Hall. 

Tears stung at her eyes like a million wasps, and no matter how many deep breaths she took, how many times she wiped her face dry, they tore at her harder still. She felt a painful ache in her chest that turned into a righteous fury as it hit her head, and deep down all she wanted to do was scream, to cry, to smash something into a million tiny bits and revel in that thing being broken and not her life, not her family, what little was left of it. Leonie was really it for her now, besides her siblings that were, by the goddess’s mercy, safely stashed away in the distant reaches of the empire. But aside from them and Leonie, Ashe was alone. Christophe had died, thanks to Catherine, Lonato had died thanks to his grief over Christophe, so his death seemed as much on Catherine as the first, Catherine, after somehow managing to actually fool her into thinking she ever fucking cared about her, had run off and betrayed her, and Byleth had dissapeared, not a trace of her to be found even after half a year of searching. 

Ashe wasn’t sure when she ended up at the front door of the Greenhouse, but she didn’t hesitate to throw them open as she heard the sound of shoveling dirt. 

“ I don’t know how you convinced Edelgard and the others to trust you so soon after you had a blade pointed at us, but I hope you know you don’t have me fooled.” Ashe said, storming into the slightly darkened greenhouse. The only light came from the last vestiges of sunlight, and a pair of torches that seemed recently lit. She saw Catherine digging at a long dead flowerbed tucked away in the very corner back of the greenhouse. 

“ And what…” Catherine buried the head of the shovel into another mound of dirt in the now-cleared section of the greenhouse, leaving the handle jutting up towards the ceiling as she turned around, wiping her hands on the dirty cloth hanging from the waistband of her pants. “Could you possibly mean by that, Ashe?”

“I know you. I thought I didn’t, I actually let you convince me, for just a moment, that you were someone I could count on. Someone I could trust. I actually believed I could forgive you, and then you go and do it all over again! Well I don’t buy it this time, and I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. The next time I see you on a battlefield, I hope you know I will not hesitate to end you, bitch.” Catherine went silent, staring at literally anything but the young woman screaming in her face. She swallowed deeply, anger, shame, guilt and, the one that scared her most, hope mixing in her all at once. She moved without thinking. Grabbing the shovel from the dirt and shoving the handle into Ashe’s hands.

“Let me save you the fucking time then. Go ahead!” Catherine screamed back. She didn’t try to keep her grip on the shovel, and as Ashe regained her footing she realized she was still clutching the tool. She began stepping forward, holding her arms out wide to the side, leaving her unprotected. Ashe did nothing, just stared as she tried to process what it was Catherine was saying. “I knew it. You’re as much talk as you ever were.” Catherine knew the next words weren’t true. She knew she didn’t mean them, they weren’t meant to be true, however. They were meant to hurt, meant to get her what she wanted. “You’re just like Cristophe.”

The ring of the metal against the side of her head sent vibration through Catherine’s entire body as she fell limp to the ground. She lay there for a minute, her upper body draped over the slightly raised soil of the dead flower bed. Her head was ringing and she could feel blood draining from the spot where the tool had made contact. After who-knew-how-long, she managed to push herself over, laying on her back and looking up. Ashe stood above her, rage and shame evident on her face, and Catherine knew she’d said what she needed to. They stayed there, one below the other, as Ashe realized what she had just done.

“Catherine…” Ashe tried to start, but the rest of the apology died in her throat. Catherine sat up, spitting blood onto the dirt behind her, adding more to the large puddle that had developed already in the soil. Catherine looked up at Ashe through hazed eyes.

“Go on. Do it.” She choked out, somewhere between an order and a plea for mercy as she pointed to the bloody shovel still clutched in Ashe’s hands. 

“What?!” 

“Finish the fucking job.” Catherine whispered it, this time almost certainly an order. Her whisper grew as she kept going, developing into a desperate, inhuman rage. “That’s what you wanted, right? Me, gone, somewhere where I can never hurt anyone we care about? Where I can’t fail to keep you safe again? Well, guess what, you and me are on the same fucking page! Now shut up and finish it!” 

“Catherine…”

The former knight stood, barely keeping her footing as she continued on, leaning against the wall with one hand, tears and blood streaming down her cheeks. 

“That’s what you do with a feral bitch, right? You put her down. Now fucking do it!” Ashe looked at her in horror, and Catherine heard her voice crack as another hopeless plea escaped her lips. “Please, kiddo, I know I failed you. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do what I promised. But please… Do it.”

The shovel rang off the ground as Ashe dropped it, running out of the greenhouse and leaving Catherine alone. She could only collapse onto the ground as she felt her body drain of what little strength she had left in her, and the greenhouse filled with her choked sobs as she sat, crying and bleeding in the flowerbed that had held such lovely flowers so long ago. Catherine missed those flowers. 

Manuela sat in her office, scratching away at a mountain of paperwork for supplies that she had been tackling for the better part of the evening. She lamented the fact that she had at one point thought no one on this planet could be as asinine about paperwork as Seteth had once been, but Hubert seemed to be an utter demon about bureaucracy. 

It was somewhere around the seventeenth form in documentation of their usage of bandages and sanitized stitching needles that she heard a firm authoritative knock at the door. She held up her finger, finalizing a third signature and a second initial before looking up to see a taller woman in a rather ornately decorated armor suit stood at her doorway. 

“Can I help you, miss?” Manuela asked, setting the quil aside as she leaned back in her chair, one leg crossing over the other slowly. The woman in her doorway brushed aside a length of brown hair, and coughed a bit before speaking. 

“Yes, Lady Casagranda. I was informed I might have signs of a wound infection, and was told to visit you as soon as I arrived.” The woman said, stood practically at attention. 

“Very well. Sit on a cot and undress whatever area is in need of treatment. Don’t worry, it’s nothing I haven’t… oh.” The woman was already undoing her chest plate and walking to the nearest cot as Manuela spoke. It was curious to interact with someone so blasé, but it was a welcomed change to the Strike Force members and civilians who all seemed so awkward or inexperienced. Manuela stood, pulling her chair along and sitting in front of the woman as she was in the process of sliding off her undershirt. “Can I get your name, dear?” 

“Ladislava.” Manuela was momentarily distracted from the conversation by the gaping wound in her shoulder that was practically glowing red. 

“Dear goddess above, how did you manage to get this kind of shiner?” Manuela wondered as she began carefully running her magic infused hand over the top of the flesh around the wound, the heat radiating off of the woman’s skin was enough to cook an egg. How had she managed to stay conscious with a fever like that, let alone speak? 

“I was on a mission for the Emperor, directing a convoy of civilians from a village on the border with Faergus toward a temporary encampment deeper into Empire territory. Our transport was attacked, and a Pegasus Knight landed a strike with a lance. It appeared to be steel, but it might have had some signs of rust, if that is of any use to you.” Manuela nodded, slowly feeling the infection fade within the woman’s flesh as her hand moved. 

“Very useful, in fact. I’ll be honest, I’m unused to working with such professionals. It’s refreshing.” Manuela said. This earned a chuckle from the woman, and it seemed as if it was not a noise she made often. 

“I am not in a line of work where I could afford to be anything else.” Ladislava said, biting down a bit as Manuela seemed to pass over an especially sore place. 

“What do you do?” Manuela finally seemed to have cleared out the worst of the infection, but she had to now move on to the actual wound itself. The flesh began to knit together as Manuela listened to Ladislava explain. 

“I’m the leader of the Adrestian Honor Guard.” 

“Ah, so Edelgard’s bodyguard?” 

“Not precisely. The Honor Guard is more of a sort of personal defense unit in battles, and when the emperor is off of the battlefield we do whatever it is that the Emperor requires of us to bolster the rank and file in the war. I am a knight directly in service to the Emperor, but I am not the Emperor’s personal protector. The Royal Guard was technically abolished by the Seven under the order of Lord Arundel during the coup against Emperor Ionius. To put it bluntly, my team is more of a precursor to what your students now call the Strike Force.” 

“That all seems rather complicated.” Manuela muttered. 

“You speak of systems, ranks, and structures that were developed several centuries ago. It is likely to have some redundancy built in.” Ladislava said. 

“I suppose as much. But to think that the emperor’s own brother in law disbanded his personal guard.” Ladislava nodded as Manuela stitched together one small tear in the edge of the wound. “Why in the name of Sothis would he do such a thing.” 

“It is uncertain. It was lauded as a sign of peace, that the Emperor was not in need of constant protection, for he had the love of his people, and peace in Fodlan. But… there were whispers among the ranks of the Honor Guard, to this day there still are.” Ladislava grit her teeth through the pain as she felt a segment of the wound seal. 

“Well, what kind of whispers?” Ladislava seemed hesitant. “Oh, come along miss Ladislava, I’m not loose lipped, at least in that sort of sense. Buy me a drink and call me pretty, and we might have another conversation, but I’m good at keeping a secret when I need to.” Ladislava chuckled again, this one sounding a bit more natural. 

“Well, if you were to ask Randolph, it was a threat.” Manuela perked an eyebrow. “Some among the rank and file worried that Lord Arundel, while he sold himself as being the mediator in between the noble houses and the Imperial Family, might have in fact had more of his own best interest in mind than that of the Emperor. Rumors had been spreading for months about arguments among the imperial household between Ionius and Arundel, claims of the Lord suddenly changing his personality, going from a kind, pious man into a cold hearted scoundrel. I never made anything of it, myself, but there is some merit to the thought that, were one to despise a person, taking away their last line of protection was one way to ensure cooperation.” 

“My oh my, that certain seems a bit ridiculous, even for workplace gossip.” Manuela said, flushing the wound with a bit of cleansed water and alcohol, and she could swear she heard the knight in her grasp whimper just a bit at the pain. “But it does make sense why one would need to be so astute in your line of work if that is the environment. Your work sounds as if it requires some versatility, and quite a bit of discipline.”

“Lady Casagranda, you flatter me.” 

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a lady who doesn’t need too much prompting to take her shirt off.” Manuela finished the last of the repairs, wiping a bit of blood off of her hands onto a small hand towel. “There you are. It should take about a day for the last of the infection to work its way out of your system. You can take the cot for tonight, since it’s so late already, and tomorrow afternoon you should be able to waltz out of here without a care in the world.” Manuela said proudly. 

“Thank you, Lady Casagranda.” Ladislava said, pulling her shirt back on. 

“Oh goddess, please don’t be so formal. That name makes me feel older just hearing it.” Manuela said, shaking her head. 

“Well, my sincerest apologies.” Ladislava said, and for once Manuela actually believed someone saying that to be genuinely apologetic. 

“Oh, don’t fret over it. Buy me dinner and I’m sure I can forgive you.” Manuela said with a practiced, confident wink and a smile. Ladislava didn’t seem to lose a beat. 

“I’d be more than happy to have such wonderful company for dinner.”

“You know, there’s a meadery in the village to the north of here that makes a vanilla lemon mead that is not half bad, at least to my taste.” The healer offered, earning a smile from the still-topless knight. 

“Oh that does sound lovely. I have quite a fondness for mead. There is a small mead hall in Enbarr that has the most delectable honey and lavender drink I have ever tasted. I make it a personal mission to buy a cask of it whenever I’m in the capital.” Ladislava said with a fond sigh. Manuela was about to reply with another practiced line when she heard something crash through her doors, and when she turned, there in the light of the doorway stood a shaking, crying Ashe Duran. 

Catherine wasn’t sure how long she lay there in the dirt before she heard a familiar voice break the quiet of that bloodied greenhouse. 

“Oh Kitten, you really did it this time, didn’t you?” Manuela asked as she walked inside. 

“Go away.” Catherine said, sat on the floor, learning up against the wall as she looked through her bloodied hair that clung to her forehead. 

“No, Kitten, I’m afraid I’m not going to be doing that. Care to tell me why miss Duran came into my office just now sobbing and whimpering about how I have to help you?” Catherine seemed taken aback at that. 

“She… She came to get you?” Manuela nodded.

“Yes, Kitten, she did. I am in fact not magically endowed with the power to know when you manage to get yourself hurt.” Catherine took a deep breath, shaking her head and biting her lip, trying to hold back the weak, choked sob that escaped her lips.

“Just… just leave me be. Please.” Manuela ignored her, walking forward and kneeling in front of her, reaching out to begin mending the wound on Catherine’s forehead, but Catherine swatted the hand away, a bit more forceful than was necessary. “D. Don’t. Don’t fucking touch me!” Catherine said, more on instinct than any kind of conscious thought.

“Catherine, I know you, I know what you’re going through, but this isn’t how you heal. Please, let me help you.” Manuela said, her hand glowing softly. Catherine’s eyes grew bitter and hateful as she glared back at her. 

“You don’t fucking know me in the slightest. The Catherine you knew was a damn fool! A puppet, a weakling and and a bitch who let herself be dragged around and who failed everyone she ever cared about! Just because you rode my face doesn’t mean you fucking know sh-“ the slap that rang through the greenhouse was the only sound aside from the crackling of the torches for a long moment. Catherine clutched her cheek and looked up to see Manuela cradling the hand that had slapped her across the face. 

“I’m sorry, Catherine. I shouldn’t have done that.” Manuela said, taking a deep breath. “But, for goodness sake do not speak of things you do not know. I know what you’re going through better than I would ever have liked to, and I am trying to be here to help you. I thought letting you have your time, letting you come to terms with it on your own was what would be best. I gave you the same book Dorothea gave me when I was recovering, in hopes that it might help you as it had myself, but between the frankly inexcusable cruelty you’ve enacted on the people who have tried their hardest to be there for you, and now whatever it is that happened here, I can’t stand aside any longer. I know how horrible it is, to feel that powerlessness, to have to relive it all, over and over, but I will tell you exactly what Dorothea told me when I did the same self destructive nonsense. Hurting yourself, destroying yourself for the sake of having some sort of control, isn’t going to make what happened go away. It will only make the good things you have harder to rely on. So, for the love of the goddess, stop shoving everyone away and let us be there for you. Things like this will only tear the wound back open, and you can’t heal if the wound never scabs.” Manuela took another deep breath, and her voice came out as a quiet, soothing whisper that Catherine hadn’t heard in years. “You’re not a fool, or a weakling, for whatever it was that happened to you, and whatever Rhea did… It wasn’t your fault. Please, kitten… let me heal your head, and let us all try to be there for you. You stubborn little shit.” 

Catherine clutched her head in her hands as she felt something crack in the wall that she had built up over the past half-a-year, soon it seemed intent to absolutely crumble around her. The choked sobs were no longer held back, and she felt as if her entire body were shaking with the force of them. She felt as if her chest had been torn open, her ribs cracked and pulled apart and her entire body doused in boiling salt water. Everything hurt, her heart, her head, her muscles, even her bones. It was the deep ache of a poison that had permeated her, as it was slowly drawn out, or at least as it began to be. Manuela didn’t try to touch her again. She was thankful for that. It was a long while later, the moon now pouring in through the very top most windows in the ceiling and dropping directly down atop them, when Catherine finally was able to speak. 

“How… how did you know?” She asked, clutching her legs to herself in a way that felt utterly childish, but she felt too nervous to let it go. “About… her.” 

”I stayed with you in the room, when we had first settled everything down after the battle. You were asleep, and I heard you mumbling her name. You sounded so afraid, and I had thought it was fear of disappointing her… It was when the book I’d left you made you uncomfortable that I realized something else might have been going on. After that, I just noticed too many similarities between your actions and my own in a past life that I couldn’t think of any way else to explain it.” Manuela said, legs curled up underneath her with her hands resting in her lap. 

“I just wanted to keep everyone safe… I just want to feel safe…” Catherine felt as if she sounded so humiliated, she didn’t recognize herself. 

“I know, kitten. But that safety doesn’t come from keeping everyone else away. It comes from healing, and that isn’t easy. It hurts, quite a bit. It’s uncomfortable, and scary, and can overwhelm you, but it’s necessary. If you let me, if you let us, we can be there to try and help you. To try and support you when you need it. But that means you can’t just try to push everyone away, even when it’s terrifying to allow someone close after having someone dear to you hurt you.” Catherine didn’t meet her eyes, staring into the flowerbed, full of blood now to a frankly absurd degree. “Catherine, can I heal your head, please? The sheer volume of your blood loss is concerning.” Catherine nodded, and Manuela carefully reached over, pausing as Catherine flinched at her approaching hand. She did her best to avoid making contact as she began to stitch the wound together. 

After it was healed, Manuela took some time, retrieving a wash rag and water from the kitchen and letting Catherine use it to clean the blood from her face and hair. By the end of it all, she almost looked presentable, even if Manuela saw so little of the Catherine she had known in the woman who looked back up at her from the floor of the greenhouse. There was more of her there in that one instant than she had seen in nearly 6 months combined.

Catherine stood, a bit more stable on her own two feet, and took a deep breath of air that didn’t reek of her own blood. 

“Just promise me you’ll try. I don’t expect you to have it perfect from the start, but promise me you’ll try to not push us away.” Catherine nodded. 

“I promise I’ll try. I just pray I haven’t dug myself too deep.” 

“You never get out of too deep of a hole by digging farther. Just keep trying, and that’s all you’ll ever be able to do. Do you want me to walk you to your room?” Catherine shook her head no. 

“I think I’m going to go throw on a clean shirt, and then I need to get a bit of food. I haven’t eaten all day.” 

“I think the dining hall is closed.” Manuela said, a bit confused, but considering Catherine was actually showing an appetite, she wasn’t going to complain. 

“It is, but they always leave the stove lit, and they never lock the cupboards like they’re supposed to.” Catherine forced a small smile on her lips, and Manuela’s chuckle and eyeroll made it just a little bit easier for her to hold it as if it were genuine. 

“Good luck, Kitten. But if anyone asks, I knew nothing about this little heist.” 

“You got it, Mani. And thank you… for everything.” 

Edelgard sighed to herself, staring at the roof of her dormitory bedroom, the moon making it clear that it was well past midnight. It was the first night in nearly a week that she had actually attempted to sleep in her own bed, aside from just the cot in her office. Hubert had lamented her poor sleep habits for months now. He’d lamented quite a bit, in honesty. Try as she might, she knew she couldn’t complain, as he was in fact right that she had let her sleep and eating habits get a bit less structured, and like many things in her life, outside of crisis or a set structure, they quickly fell apart. She also found it difficult to put much effort into taking care of herself when she knew there were whole nations of people struggling in the distance. No matter how far the Monastery felt from the war, it never left her mind, the death that happened under her order and the order of those she fought against. 

Her stomach growled, and reminded her of yet another one of hubert’s grievances. Tonight was in fact one of the nights she had missed retrieving or calling for any sort of dinner. She grumbled a bit to herself, wishing she could simply sleep and eat in the morning, but she did that often and almost always forgot breakfast as well. It was as if her body were refusing to be tricked again. She sighed, standing up and quickly throwing on a simple pair of black pants and a red blouse, the quickest items she could think of to make herself somewhat presentable. Her red gloves were pulled into place, and she stepped out, intent to see if there had been anything left in storage by the dining staff, as they sometimes did with leftover food for the night shift of the guard. She walked toward the steps from the fish pond up to the dining hall, and saw that the door was slightly ajar, a rather large amount of light pouring out as she heard some kind of shuffling and a bit of clanging on the other side. 

She opened the door, peering into the kitchen as she worried there might be some kind of scuffle or fight, based on the amount of angry grunts and loud bangs, but she could only see one person in the dining hall, a very very familiar person. She stepped into the room, seeing a torch hung from one of the rings on the wall as Catherine stirred something in a pot, a pan sizzling on the stove alongside it. 

“Catherine what in the hell are you doing?” The woman nearly jumped through the ceiling at the sudden break in the silence, wheeling around to see Edelgard, and seeming to breathe a sigh of relief. Edelgard realized upon a moment’s more inspection that, to put it gently, Catherine looked like hell. Edelgard had, admittedly, not been the best about checking on the woman regularly as the war had progressed, but she saw bags under her eyes that were so deep and dark it was as if they had been carved into place. Her hair was wet, slicked back and still chopped so short that it resembled Caspar’s hair more than anything she had had before. Her clothes seemed clean, an undershirt, a cotton overshirt left unbuttoned and pulled over top of it, and a pair of heavy canvas work pants that looked as if they had seen better days. Was that blood on the knee?

“Goddess have mercy, Edelgard, don’t fucking sneak up on me like that.” Catherine said, clutching her chest as if she were sincerely ready to keel over. 

“I… I’m sorry. I did not intend to disturb you, although one might have wondered if you might have a guilty conscience, jumping that high in a startle. Might you be breaking a rule or two?” Edelgard said, gesturing to the stove as Catherine stirred whatever was in the pan. 

“Oh don’t play coy, Edelgard. I might be breaking a rule, but I’m just cooking a little pasta, nothing that’s going to lose us the war. Besides, I made the sauce with my own vegetables, so the cook can’t complain about me taking anything from her stocks except a little dried spaghetti.” Catherine said matter-of-factly, stirring the pot and taking a minute to try a bite from the spoon. Edelgard looked at the woman a bit dumbstruck. 

“You’re making pasta sauce yourself?” Edelgard asked, equal amounts of surprise and fear in her voice. 

“Yes, I in fact know how to cook. No need to sound so surprised.” Catherine turned back to her pan, rolling her eyes at Edelgard’s disbelief.

“My apologies.” Edelgard sniffed the air. “It actually smells… quite appetizing. Would you have enough for a second serving by any chance?” Catherine was about to tell Edelgard to get fucked on pure instinct alone, but she caught a glimpse of the tired emperor’s eyes, and found herself thinking back to her conversation just a bit over an hour ago with Manuela. 

She had to start somewhere, didn’t she? Why not now?

“I think I have plenty for two.” Catherine said, seeing the faintest hint of a smile on Edelgard’s lips. It was a familiar sight even if it felt as if Catherine hadn’t seen it in decades. “Grab a chair, it shouldn’t be long now.” Edelgard moved a chair from one of the smaller tables, pulling it up to the counter where the dining hall staff usually had all the meals laid out, ready to serve. Edelgard caught sight of the water, which was a strange green. 

“What exactly are you using for the noodles, for it to be that color?” Edelgard asked, pointing at the pot of water. 

“It’s not the noodles that make it that color. It’s the herbs. You drop in a couple spoonfuls of the right spices, let the water boil until it looks like tea, and that’s when you drop the noodles in. Makes them a bit more flavorful.” Catherine explained, tossing her a small glass vial with dried leaves in it. “Basil” was written across a piece of paper on the bottle. 

“How did you ever learn to cook?” Edelgard asked, resting her chin in her hand. “Take no offense, I just never thought of cooking as a very knightley skill.”

“Oh, well, I sort of learned from a brother of mine.” Catherine said, a bit quiet. 

“I wasn’t aware you had a brother.” Edelgard said, a bit taken aback that she realized how little she knew of Catherine’s family.

“I do, but that’s not what I meant. It was Fredrique who taught me. He and Joe were more family to me than I ever knew from any of my blood.” Catherine said, her shoulders stiffening. She took a deep breath, trapping the spoon on the edge of the pot, more out of ritual than purpose. “That scrawny, wirey, red headed little shit. I swear couldn’t wake up fully until he was done pissing me off. He was one of the bravest men I ever knew.” Catherine took another deep breath trying to calm herself. 

“Oh…” Edelgard said, not quite sure how she should respond. 

“I’m… I’m sorry.” 

“It’s ok, Catherine. This war… It’s taken much from everyone.” Edelgard guessed that the two of them realized that better than most. 

“Yeah. It really has.” Catherine stirred the sauce, taking just a bit of water from the pasta and dumping it in. She seemed lost in contemplation, as she stirred the sauce, before the faintest hint of a chuckle escaped her lips.“ You know, Freddy and Joseph were just the most pretentious assholes about food. They absolutely despised my cooking, and when I first took command, Joseph was adamant that I try learning from them.” Catherine began dumping out the water from the pot of pasta, before dumping the noodles into the sauce. “So, after weeks of pestering me, they finally convince me to take a lesson, and even go so far as to set up a fire pit in the area behind the barracks to teach me. So, time comes and I go to the cooking spot at the time they told me to be there, right? Well, there’s no one there but me, shocking I know. I spend nearly an hour waiting for these two to finally show up, and when I hear the bell striking, I finally storm off about ready to light someone on fire myself and call it a good old fashioned barbeque. I go and kick in their barracks door, I didn’t even fucking check if it was locked. You’ll never guess what I see.” Catherine notes, dropping a bowl onto the counter in front of Edelgard, sitting across from her and taking her own bowl, already gathering some noodles on her fork. “I get the door open, and I see Joe, naked as the day he was born, passed out on top of the bed with Fredrique in the process of trying to pull his pants on, ignoring the fact his entire damn chest is covered in honey.” Edelgard looked at Catherine, and realized that for maybe the first time in half a year of this war, she was seeing the woman smile. 

“You have to be joking. That is absolutely disgusting.” Edelgard said, incredulous as she almost dropped her fork. Catherine laughed, slapping the counter and shaking her head. 

“I wish I was. I could’ve gone my entire damned life without seeing Joe’s hairy pussy on display. But that’s not even the worst part.” 

“There’s more?!?” 

“Yup. Joe wakes up right about then, barely. He looks up, sees me, looks at Fredrique, looks back at me, and he just says, ‘oh, right, that’s what that honey was for.’ and then proceeds to fall back asleep!” Edelgard couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her after that, and for one quiet moment the two might as well have been sitting around the campfire on the way to Remire, swapping laughs and eating without a care in the world. 

“I don’t know how you three ever recovered from that.” Edelgard said, bewildered. 

“Oh, simple, really. We all agreed to never, ever fucking discuss it ever again.” Edelgard rolled her eyes, taking another bite of pasta. 

“That seems oh so very predictable.” 

“I’m a simple woman.” Catherine said, her mind seeming to wander to darker regions as her voice grew soft and quiet. Edelgard and Catherine finished their meal rather quickly after that. Catherine got up, reaching her hand out for the bowl. “Here, I’ll do the dishes and, uh, dispose of the evidence.” 

“Don’t be silly, I’ll help you.” Edelgard said, standing up and moving to the spot at the sink beside Catherine. It took the night to realize that, even counting Manuela, she was pretty sure this was the closest anyone had been to her that wasn’t actively stitching a wound since this war had begun. The faintest smile remained on her face as she scrubbed a dish clean, handing it to Edelgard who dried it with a rag from nearby. “So…” Edelgard began, after several minutes of silence. “Just how bad of a cook were you?” That made Catherine chuckle. 

“Oh, it was bad. Let me just put it like this,” Catherine handed her another dish. “My cooking would have made Letty’s trail rations sound like a nice home cooked meal.” 

“Oh, goddess, no.” 

“Cross my heart.” Catherine said, a pruned hand pressed above her sternum. 

“I shudder just to think of it.” Edelgard said as they moved toward the door, where they found themselves at a splitting of paths. 

“You know.” Catherine began, a hand on her hip as she seemed to get visibly uncomfortable. “I tend to come ‘requisition’ the dining hall every couple of nights, but I do it almost every sunday. If you want, you’re welcome to join me again.” 

“I’d like that.” Edelgard said, gesturing toward the door leading toward her office. “I really must be going, however. There is some documents regarding a lord in Kingdom territory wanting to submit to Adrestian control. He seemed rather paranoid about his family’s privacy, so I had better address it before returning to sleep.” Edelgard said. 

“Sounds like a pain in the ass. Have fun with that.” Catherine said, walking off toward the dormitory, pausing for a moment to turn back. “Have a good night, Princess.” Edelgard smiled, and didn’t even have the energy to roll her eyes in feigned annoyance. 

“Good night to you as well, Catherine.” 

Hubert quickly moved out of the way, disappearing with a snap of his fingers as Catherine walked out, just past him, and back toward her dorm. He eyed the woman up and down, pondering for a moment as he looked back and saw Lady Edelgard walking toward her office, the unmistakable edges of a smile in his line of sight. He looked back to Catherine, and thought to himself for a moment. 

“Dear goddess, not again with this…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! Boom! We are officially done with week number two of The War of the Angst, where the biggest battle isn't between the church and Adrestia but between my urge to write angst and my urge to write hurt/comfort. I feel like evil incarnate for putting Catherine and Ashe through such hell together, but at the same time I know what it's building to, and I promise it'll be worth it. I'm struggling as a writer, because I know that there's a certain way the more emotionally crushing scenes need to play out to make the arc I have in store for several of the Eagles involved actually turn out the way I want them to, but I also worry that at a certain point it just gets rediculous, so I'm curious about yalls opinions as my readers, cus if I'm just being a jackass, and yall are enjoying the emotional bruising, I'm not gonna fuck with it lmao. Let me know your thoughts in the comments, and I look forward to talking shop with yall, and I'll see you next week for your regular dose of Gay Shit.


	26. Chapter 26: Time Flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petra longs for her partners and hears word of mysterious activity to the north of Brigid while the Eagles deal with nefarious lords in their efforts to turn the tides of the war piece by piece. Catherine makes her attempts, some more successful than others, to try and start rebuilding her friendships, finding solace in someone not too unlike her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I have dnd in like 10 minutes so no real big chapter notes, hope you all enjoy this weeks update, and hope to hear from yall in the comments about fun theories or just fun rambling. 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage  
> I’m on tumblr at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dressthesage

Petra sat on a small stool in the stall of the royal stable beside Pyrois, the large red wyvern that had been her mount for almost 2 years now. She held a brush in her hand and was slowly working it over her wyvern’s scales. The old girl was caked in dirt and plant matter from their travels around Brigid, and Petra was always one to ensure her mount was well treated. It had been one of the things she’d respected about Edelgard and Ashe when she had begun training alongside them in flight, when she had seen the both of them dutifully attending to their mounts as opposed to others who seemed content to merely turn them over to the stable hands. To her, Pyrois was a small bastion of familiarity in a vastly unfamiliar world. 

While she was overjoyed to be home, it was so different than it had been when she left. So many of the towns and villages she had known as a child had been completely destroyed, some replaced with buildings and towns structured like Fodlan while others were simply left in rubble. There was so much that had been destroyed, and over the past six months that she had been back in her motherland she found herself feeling simultaneously overwhelmed by the amount of change that had occured, and equally overwhelmed by the amount that she still needed to change before she could even consider returning to the Monastery, to her partners. 

That was a thought that sent a dagger into her heart. Bernadetta and Dorothea, were she being honest, one of the few reasons she wished to return to Fodlan at all. Her friends in the Black Eagles were all of great importance to her, of course. She missed Caspar and Linhardt, with their strange mixture of constant enthusiasm and perpetual exhaustion. She missed Leonie and Ashe, as strange as it had been watching those two slowly become closer. She held much respect in her heart for Edelgard, as well as the professor, both for the first’s effort in aiding Brigid’s independence, and in the second’s work in helping her grow as a warrior, but it was still so strange, looking off in the distance when she would stand on the beach, staring at the distant, barely visible landmass that was Fodlan. 

Even with all the change she had heard coming to pass in Adrestian territory, of which she made sure to keep a very close eye on, she was still so conflicted by the thought of return. She would get to see her friends, yes, and her girls as well, but at the price of returning to the land that had held her as a hostage over her home and her people. Yet she knew Fodlan, and Adrestia with it, was nothing like it had been when she had been taken. Edelgard was moving to ensure that, and even while Petra refused to take the word of an Emperor at face value, try as she might she could not find any sign of intent for deceit. The sword that hung from her hip was proof enough of the fact that Edelgard had thus far kept her word. Brigian steel, honed to a razors edge that had held since the day she had arrived back in her homeland. The facilities that had been built by Empire troops had been well and truly left untouched. The armories were stocked full of supplies, ready for war. What had been stolen from them, pointed at and used to slaughter those that had risen up against their occupation was now in their hands to wield as they saw fit. If Petra had anything to say for it, she’d ensure until the day she died that they would be used for nothing but keeping her home free and independent. 

There had of course been cases in which the facilities had not been vacated. Small pockets of rebellion amongst the more hateful of Imperial forces who deemed themselves the overlords of the whole nation from their squalid little fortresses. They thought themselves so highly over head of anything Brigid could produce amongst its people that it would only take a few small squadrons to continue the occupation that had taken all their might before. They were, and have continued to be, proven woefully misguided. Petra did not believe in reveling in slaughter. It was heartless, cold, and was more akin to the attitude toward life that the Adrestian forces had held than anything Petra wanted to consider appropriate for a warrior of Brigid, but she would be lying if there was not some small enjoyment in taking those same high-and-mighty bastards and shredding them to pieces, whether with her blade and between Pyrois’ teeth. 

The wyvern in question bumped Petra in the stomach with the tip of her snout, knocking Petra off of her stool and onto her behind, drawing her from her own thoughts. Petra chuckled as she crawled back up, seeing Pyrois nudging the brush toward her. 

“Was I off in my own land, and not giving you the attention you wanted?” Petra taunted in Brigian, earning a small nod from Pyrois. “Oh, I am ever so sorry, my dearest lizard.” Petra rolled her eyes as she returned to brushing the scales. “I find it hard to not let my mind wander these days. Six months is not much in number, but in experience it feels like ages since I’ve seen my darlings.” Pyrois’s slit pupils disappeared as the beast almost seemed to roll her eyes at the queen’s pining. “I bet right now they’re off, getting into some sort of trouble with the rest of the Eagles and making fun out of the chaos. Dorothea is likely raising all types of assorted hell with Manuela, dragging poor Bernadetta along for the ride...Bernadetta was getting so much more comfortable being out of her shell, I’ll bet she is just prospering like a little social butterfly, smiling and laughing… She has the sweetest laugh. I only ever heard it when it was just the three of us. I think that’s the only time she ever really felt safe enough.” That thought made Petra’s eyes go just a bit foggy, a scowl crawling onto her lips. “I do hope you do not get too much of a fill of Fodish men’s blood while we are retaking Brigid, dear girl. Because when I get the opportunity, I shall allow you to make a feast of that damned Lord Varley for what he did to my little bellflower.” The pleased snort the wyvern released gave her all the reassurance she needed. Phlegon was a large, regal beast, intelligent as she was viscous on the battlefield. Her scales, unlike Phlegon’s sleek blue or Seteth’s marred green scales, were a deep crimson that seemed to glimmer ever so softly in the light of the early morning sun. 

“My queen.” A voice called from the doorway to the stable, declaring their presence. 

“Yes, Alexandra.” Petra called back, standing and facing the woman. 

“There has been a report of a pair of strange disturbances to the north. Reports of Adrestian deserters seen, and we’ve received no word from outpost 11, 12, or 13.” Alexandra said. She was a no-nonsense sort of woman, several long purple marks angling under her eye, zig zagging into a spiraling pattern across her cheek and the very edge of her sharp jawline, however there was also a small portion of another marking peaking out of the neckline of the roughspun wool doublet she wore, which showed a pattern of flowing lines of light blue trailed across her russet brown skin. She was easily near a foot taller than Petra, and her lifetime of work in the service of the throne of Brigid had left her marked and decorated with the scars of a warrior, and beneath it the muscles to match. Her arms were set dutifully at her side, mirroring her strict posture, if a bit in contrast to the soft smile she always wore. On her hip, there was a heavy steel axe that had seen more than its fair share of battles. 

“Well, it seems we had best move quickly then. Ensure the rest of the fighters are prepared by dawn, and we will make for the location of the sitings first. I grow tired of these lingering pests, and long to have them finally done with. We have welcomed civilians fleeing the war in Fodlan with open arms, but these men will seemingly stop at nothing to continue their sick game.” Petra lamented. 

“That is why we have you guiding us, is it not, my queen?” Alexandra asked, her unabashed sincerity making Petra smile as she hadn't in several weeks. 

“I am one woman, Alexandra, one woman does not make the changes that Brigid has seen already.” 

“No. But you left this place in chains, and returned with a wyvern and a blade, ready to fight for us. That is a powerful image, and not one to discount the impact of unless one wished to make an ass of themselves.” 

“I swear, Alexandra, you spend more time counseling me than Vasily. Perhaps it would have been better to mark her leader of my guard, and let you be my head advisor instead.” It was Alexandra’s turn to laugh, it was a deep, booming thing that shook Petra’s bones. 

“Vasily spends too much time with concern for what is proper and studious. She is brilliant beyond measure in ways I will never understand, but she forgets about the importance of doing what is necessary. That is better for an advisor than a guard, and I find my skill set similarly matched to my occupation.” Alexandra said. 

“Ah, I shall ensure I inform Vasily of this quite astute observation of yours when I see her next. Now, I believe you have a team to inform of our imminent departure, do you not?” Petra asked, noticing the well hidden, but still notable terror in Alexandra’s eyes. “Is something amis? Is there something else I should inform Vasily of when I speak to her?” Petra asked with a coyness that could only be fake. 

“N..no, my queen. Just… please inform my wife that I said I hope she has a good day, and that I love her very, very much.” Alexandra said, awkwardly trying to dig herself out of the pit she had seemingly dug for herself. Petra couldn’t help but grin. 

“I shall ensure she receives the message. Move swiftly, and perhaps I will forget about the first portion entirely.” 

“Yes, my queen!” Alexandra had never run so quickly in her life as she did out of that stable. Petra chuckled, shaking her head as she returned to Pyrois, finishing off her brushing of the massive girl’s scales as she mumbled to herself. 

“My wife… my wives? I suppose it does have a certain ring to it… What do you think, old girl?” Petra asked, patting Pyrois on the back. All the wyvern did in response was release a huff from her nostrils. “You’re right, I’m overthinking things, getting ahead of myself… But it does have a pleasant sound.” 

The afternoon sun shone high above Ferdinand as he marched toward the dorms from the dining hall. He had just left a rather stagnant meeting with Edelgard and Hubert over a few preparations for an upcoming mission, and had found himself feeling in need of a short break. As such, he had decided to return to his and Hubert’s shared quarters for a nap. The week had been a dreadfully exhausting one. Not only had he been seemingly up to his throat in paperwork, but even in his personal life, things seemed strange. After the incident earlier in the week, where he had foolishly hoped to try and integrate Catherine back into the Eagles by a sort of surprise attack, Ashe seemed to walk with just a bit more weight on her shoulders, and no matter what Ferdinand did, nothing seemed to lift it.

He had been wondering if perhaps there was some way to lift Ashe’s mood by trying to help her mend her rocky relationship with Catherine, but he realized that, seeing as how badly his last attempt had gone, he might be better off leaving Ashe to herself, and just trying to be there for her when and if she ever came to him. Although, as he began to think about Catherine, his walk taking him past the greenhouse, the woman herself seemed to appear in front of him out of nowhere rubbing at the back of her neck and trying not to meet his eyes. Thankfully, Hubert’s quiet footsteps had left Ferdinand rather incapable of being startled. He supposed it shouldn’t be surprising to see Catherine there, as it was rare to see her anywhere else. 

“Hey, um, Ferdinand, do you have a minute?” 

“Of course, Catherine, always for a friend.” Ferdinand said, extending his hand out to rest on her shoulder. She stepped away, sticking her hands in her pockets and bouncing a bit awkwardly on the balls of her feet. 

“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I um… I guess I haven’t exactly been a good one of, well, those lately, and you’ve been a really good one, and I should probably, um, let you know that I appreciate it.” Ferdinand looked at her, confused, and Catherine could only heave a sigh, reaching up and running her hand through her hair without even thinking about it. “I know you’ve been trying really hard and all, to help me reconnect with everyone and everything. Even after I kind of told you to get fucked, but, well I… I'm trying to be better, and I figured saying I’m sorry to you was a good place to start. If it’s ok, I’d like to join you all for dinner some time.” Ferdinand absolutely beamed at her. 

“That’s fantastic! Yes, of course, you’re more than welcome. Tonight! Join us tonight!” Ferdinand offered, and Catherine still seemed shocked at how easy going about it all he seemed to be.

“Yeah, tonight sounds good to me.” Catherine seemed to be searching for something in Ferdinand’s gaze as they stood there, the nobleman with his hands on his hips, his hair in a small braid down his neck. “Ferdinand, I don’t want to be rude, but I got to know. Why? Why are you so… ok about this? Like, yeah I get that I helped you on the battlefield, but that just… it isn’t clicking for me.” Ferdinand laughed, looking down at his boots as he thought a while. 

“Catherine, I have never wanted to help you simply because you saved me on the battlefield, I want to help you because you’re my friend, and, well, as tough as you may be, I knew you were hurting. With Byleth still missing, and everything I'm sure you’ve heard about the church during the war, I had felt as if I might know your shoes a bit better than most. And I’m being ‘ok’ about this for the same reason.” Catherine looked at him, beyond confused. 

“I’m not quite sure I understand. I was your friend, yes, and I would like to continue to be. But… I was on the enemy side. I was a threat to you, for all you know I still am, why be so reckless?” Ferdinand wanted to reach out, to pat her on the shoulder and tell her she was being a fool, but seeing how she had been visibly uncomfortable with his last attempt at contact, he thought better of it. 

“Catherine, I told you before, we were all on that side no more than a few hours prior to that battle. Edelgard nonetheless welcomed us, and has trusted us with reckless abandon. Even while I am vocal as a critic of her more, well, radical measures. I want to extend you that same kindness, because I know you. I have sparred with you, fought beside you, ate with you and marched alongside the dead with you. I know you would never hurt me.” 

“But you don’t know that!” Catherine snapped, biting her tongue a second later as she tried to calm herself. “I’m sorry for that… but you don’t. You can’t know that. You should be more careful. Had I run into you before coming to my senses, there’s no telling what could have happened.” 

“Catherine… may I tell you something, in confidence?” 

“Of course.” 

“Part of my forgiving you might have been, and in a sense might still be, a bit selfish. I know what it is to realize after the fact what harm you’ve caused, to look back and regret. My father… he was not a good man as I had once believed. He hurt someone we both know and care for a great deal. I was told of it the first night after the battle in the throne room. Hubert pulled me aside, told me the wicked things my father had put into place, and that he had been punished for it. I didn’t believe it at first. It hurt to think of someone I cared for hurting another in that same rank. But part of it was also that I remembered how often I had cheered my father’s praise right in that person’s presence, and so many other things that I realized had been no doubt deeply hurtful. I suppose in a way I look at that and can understand why you might have been slower to turn your back on the church, as I saw that you did, than the rest of us were. Had you harmed me, I suppose it would be more difficult, but I’d like to think I’d hold the same attitude. However, instead you helped me, you were there on the battlefield to aid and protect me as you have always been before. I don’t take that lightly. Perhaps it’s selfish because I hope in forgiving you, I can find hope someone else can forgive me. But either way, I have no intention of holding doubt of you or your intentions. If trusting you is foolish, then I shall enlist to be Edelgard’s next court jester, for I will do it nonetheless, and do it proudly at that.” Ferdinand said, hand now resting on the pommel of his sword. 

“I, Ferdinand I don’t think I have anything better to say than just… thank you.” Catherine seemed to almost feel guilty at accepting the gesture of friendship, but she did it regardless.

“Of course! Do not fret, Catherine, for there will be many days where I’m sure you’ll pay your pittence to others, but we are cleared of any debt and any doubt. I apologize, but I’m quite exhausted, and must be retiring for a short while. I hope you have a good afternoon. Take good care of your plants.” 

“I will, don’t worry.” Catherine said with a chuckle. “Although, I’m afraid you’re not really the only person I gotta make the rounds with. I’ve been uh… kind of a bitch to a lot of people these past few months. I figure it’s best to just do it all at once, you know?” Ferdinand laughed. 

“I suppose I do. I hope your day goes well, dear Catherine. I will see you at dinner tonight.” He went to walk away, pausing for a minute. “And if you don’t quite feel ready to dine with the rest of the strike force, I’m sure I can split away for the evening if that would be easier for you. Perhaps ask Flayn and Mercedes to join us? I know Flayn has missed you dreadfully at dinners.” Catherine nodded.

“Thanks, Ferdinand, that does sound a bit less terrifying. But, you know what… I’ll give the whole table a try.” Catherine said, earning an even broader smile from the noble. Catherine hadn’t even thought that was possible. 

From there, Catherine continued on with, as she had said, ‘making the rounds’. She left that spot, moving out to track down Dorothea. It had taken almost an hour to find her, but eventually find her Catherine did, tucked away in Manuela’s office, along with the woman herself. The two had been chatting about something when Manuela noticed Catherine in the doorway, awkwardly stood in her least-filthy flannel work shirt and work pants, waiting for them to finish. 

“Can I help you, Kitten?” Manuela asked, resting her chin in her hand. 

“Oh, no, Mani. I was actually looking for Dorothea. If now isn’t a good time I can, uh, talk to her later.” Catherine said, wincing a bit at the glare the younger woman shot her. 

“Well, you’ve found me. What do you want?” Dorothea asked, not cruelly but clearly not enjoying being bothered. 

“Do you think I could talk to you, you know, alone for a minute?” Catherine asked, pointing over her shoulder to the empty hall behind her. 

“No. If you need to talk to me, you can say whatever you need to say in front of Manuela.” Dorothea said, sitting on the edge of the older woman’s desk. 

Dorothea had abandoned her old uniform, now wearing a violet blouse that was unbuttoned a bit more than could be called ‘professional’, and a darker crimson pair of dress pants with plain black leather boots that went just over her knee. The boots matched the rather formidable bandolier of throwing weapons that hung around her waist, along with a pouch full of even more tools. 

“I…um, fuck” Catherine sighed the final word under her breath, losing all courage as she tried to think of what to say. 

“I did not need to know that. Will that be all?” Dorothea asked, almost teasing. 

“Goddess damnit, you know that’s not what I meant.” Catherine said, not sure why this was so much harder for her all of a sudden. She decided to just blurt it out and let it fall as it did. “I’m sorry. Sorry I was an asshole, sorry I’ve been an asshole this whole damn time.” Catherine said, holding her hands up near her shoulders in a gesture of ‘I don’t fucking know’. 

Dorothea paused, rather shocked that the stubborn mule of a woman had actually apologized. She stood up, strutting across the office so she stood face to face with Catherine. With her boot heels as high as they were, the two were almost even. 

“Go on.” Dorothea almost laughed at the groan that drew from Catherine. 

“I know I have been sort of a…” She tried to find a better word than ‘asshole’. Dorothea grinned as she offered up some thoughts of her own. 

“Tactless fool? Inconsiderate cretin? Jackass? Bitch?” Catherine seemed to twitch at the last word, her face etching for a minute into a scowl. 

“OK, yes, I get it.” Catherine snapped, realizing that tone likely wasn’t really appropriate for an apology. “I just… I know I kind of kicked you while you were down, dealing with Petra leaving and all of that. That wasn’t a thing a good friend should do, and I’m sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass.” 

Dorothea nodded, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek as she tried to parse everything out. She knew it was petty, but she just struggled to put much stock in the apology after Catherine had seemed to prove so much better after the incident in the barracks. 

“Fine.” Dorothea said, turning toward Manuela and walking back. 

“Fine?” Catherine repeated, confused. Dorothea turned back to her, crossing her arms, now visibly annoyed. 

“Yes, Catherine, fine. Right now, I have no reason to take your words as anything more than that, words. Hot air. I’ve seen you be a jackass a few too many times for me to just let everything slide by, good as new. I’ll believe what you say when I see it. Until then, nothing has changed.” Catherine didn’t really know how to react to that, so she simply nodded, replying with a muttered ‘ok, yeah, understood’ as she went to leave. 

After that, and a brief goodbye as Dorothea left to go have an early supper with Bernadetta, Manuela was left in her office with a stack of paperwork piled in front of her as she ignored it completely in favor of a much more interesting piece of literature, “The Temptation of the Gaurdswoman”. It was a ‘novel’ of the same questionable quality and repute as most of her collection, but it knew what it was, and as far as trashy lurid tripe went, it was good at what it aimed for. 

She knew she ought to be working on the paperwork. After the little disturbance in the greenhouse earlier that week she had lost considerable time she could’ve spent doing it, and the last thing she needed right now was the wrath of that twiggy oily-haired bastard Hubert aimed in her direction. But, in all honesty, she couldn’t have been paid enough to give a moment’s thought to anyone not bleeding to death. 

A knock came from the entrance to the medical bay, and Manuela held up a finger, finishing the rest of the page before bending over a corner of the page and looking up to see the very well-defined form of Ladislava standing in the doorway. 

“Good afternoon, Manuela. Might you be able to spare just a moment?” Ladislava asked. 

“Why of course.” Manuela said, sitting forward and tossing her book onto the desk. Ladislava walked toward her, and Manuela heard the thump of the book as it slid over the edge of the desk and fell on the floor. She continued to smile and silently prayed that it went unnoticed by Ladislava. “Although I must say, I’m surprised to see you so soon after having sent you off so recently. Don’t tell me you’ve gone and gotten yourself injured again. There are easier ways to get my attention.” 

“I am well aware of that.” Ladislava said, reaching down and picking up the discarded novel from the ground, setting it on the table beside Manuela’s stack of paperwork. “If I’m not mistaken, all I had to do previously to get your attention was wander in and take my clothes off. Although, I’m hoping to not need such drastic measures just yet.” Ladislava had a small, coy smile on her lips as Manuela raised an eyebrow at the word ‘yet’. 

“Well, how can I help you then?” Manuela asked. 

“I believe I might need some assistance paying back a debt I incurred recently. A very lovely young woman healed a wound that was ailing me, and I in turn owe her a nice meal at a mead hall to the north of here, if my memory serves me.” Manuela chuckled and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, leaning forward just a bit and gaining no small victory from seeing the flicker of Ladislava’s eyes as the soldier seemed to do everything shy of turning the other direction to avoid looking down the front of Manuela’s gown. An honorable knight through and through, it seemed. Manuela enjoyed corrupting exactly that type, women and men alike. 

“Hmmmmm, I think I can help you with that. When were you intending to pay off your little debt then?” Manuela asked, leaning forward even more. She was actually quite impressed with Ladislava’s resolve, or at the very least her poker-face. She’d normally expect at least an awkward cough or clearing of the throat, maybe a nervous blush, but the woman simply held her eyes with that small, polite smile that seemed as if Ladislava was toying with her in the same way. 

“Well, I have officially been given leave for the evening. So if you are not in the midst of important work, I was thinking perhaps… now?” 

“I am in fact in the middle of quite important medical research at the moment, but I’m sure I can free some time for such an important favor.” Manuela teased, only to go dead silent as she saw Ladislava’s armored hand nonchalantly pick up the book she had set on the desk earlier. 

‘I’m certain you are. Very important research indeed.” Ladislava looked at the front cover of the book, standing firmly at attention as she flipped it open and began reading over the lurid details Manuela had been enjoying just moments ago. Were she just reading to herself, Manuela might’ve thought to make some flirty comment about reenacting this or that scene later in the evening, but to the songstress’s horror, the wing-adorned knight began reading aloud. “‘Oh, dearest Elizabeth, I implore you, bind my hands and do not let me free until my body has gone limp from exhaustion. A monstrous beast such as I has no right to lay finger nor gentle kiss on such sweet flesh as yours.’ Cassidy pleaded pleadingly as she lay beneath the duchess of her homeland, heart aching almost more than her loins as she longed not just for her lady’s sweet touch, but her sweet love…” Manuela stood, snapping the book from the woman’s hands as she realized the door was still ajar. 

“Ok I think that’s quite enough of that.” Manuela spoke at the speed of a Thoron blast as she stuffed the book into her desk drawer. Her face felt warm. Did she have a fever?

“Compelling research, to be sure.” Ladislava said, completely serious in expression, if not intent. “So, might I interest you in that glass of mead, Manuela?” 

“I think I could go for a nice meal, if not a drink.” Manuela agreed, moving to stand beside the, to her surprise, significantly taller woman before they moved to leave the room. 

Catherine spun a shovel on her fingers with practiced ease as she returned to her greenhouse. When she popped the door open she was greeted by the sight of Marianne in her spot by the flowers. Catherine gave her their usual nod as she moved to one of the larger vegetable plants, chopping away at the grown zucchini as she collected it all in a small basket to bring to the dining hall later that day. She felt some solace in the familiar, comfortable quiet as she knelt there, working in the dirt as she unwound from her rather unsuccessful attempt at apologizing to Dorothea. After a while of mulling over if she should consider swearing less in her next apology, she noticed the dried smears of blood still visible in the dirt of that one stubborn flower bed, and heaved a sigh as she remembered her promise. It had been a long, long week since then, and she still hadn’t seen hide nor tail of Ashe since. Maybe that was for the better. But, Catherine looked over to Marianne, and as much as that day had sucked, she figured she still had a promise to keep.

She moved out from under the zucchini plant, wiping her dirty hands off on her pants and grabbing a large pitcher of water off of the floor. She’d learned to bring water, and plenty of it with her gardening after the first couple of weeks, when she had gone to bed every night with a splitting headache from dehydration. She moved over to one side of the flower bed Marrianne was perched on, gesturing to a spot across from her. 

“Is, uh, that spot taken?” Catherine asked, seeming to startle the woman by actually speaking. Marianne shook her head no, and Catherine perched on the opposite side, looking at the rows of flowers that seemed to be as bright and lively as ever . She leaned against one of the support pillars, propping her feet up on the ledge and drinking straight from her pitcher of water. Marianne said nothing if she had any issue with it, but by the time Catherine set the pitcher down, it was nearly empty. She looked at the flowers, smiling at the bright colorful leaves.“You do a really good job with these flowers. You seem to be better at taking care of them then I am with the rest of this place.” Catherine said with a weak chuckle, earning a curious look from Marianne.

“I simply keep them watered, and heal them when they need it. I worry, some days, that when I’m gone for diplomatic missions I might be gone too long and they not have survived, but it has yet to happen thus far.” Marianne said. Catherine enjoyed her voice. It seemed to match her, a soft tone for her timid demeanor, a well-educated composure matching her attire. Catherine realized just how nice her clothes actually were, a long dark blue gown draped over a petticoat, with a shawl over her shoulders that matched the darker fabric, detailed all in golden thread. Her long hair was up in a braid around the crown of her head, making her about as opposite Catherine as she could possibly be, her undershirt and work pants slathered in dirt and muck and grime, and her short hair already slick with sweat and clumped with dirt. 

“Yeah, I try to water them when you’re gone. I’m not quite as skilled with the flowers as I am with the produce, but I have managed this long without killing them. I, uh, I’m sure you must be a talented diplomat.” Catherine said, floundering at how exactly this whole ‘talking’ thing had come so easily to her once. “I never really had a head for that kind of thing, honestly. I was always the type to just ask why we couldn’t duke it out hand to hand and let the winner decide. It always made sense to me, you know? If you have an argument, two of you go off, settle it in an alley, and then everyone gets to live long enough for another beer.” Catherine paused, chuckling at her own joke as she realized she was making the conversation too much about her. “You’re from the Alliance, right? How’d you ever end up falling in with the Strike Dorks?” Marianne gave a soft giggle at the nickname. 

“I was in my room when the fighting happened. I stayed there, and after the fighting stopped a knight found me.” Marianne said, causing Catherine to quirk a brow. 

“Why’d you stay in during the fight? I mean it’s a good thing you did, but that seems like an interesting choice. Did you have some kind of misgiving with the church?” Marianne shook her head. 

“No… I wanted to keep people safe. I only ever seem to bring bad luck to those around me, so I stayed in my room, where I couldn’t mess anything up and get someone hurt.” Catherine noticed Marianne reaching down, and that was when she saw the small, wilting flower closest to her. Her fingers lit up with white light, and they seemed to brush against the flower, slowly raising it up and into bright, budding life. “While I appreciate the effort, it’s not wise to try and get close to me, ma’am.” 

Catherine sat there for a long moment, and as she looked to Marianne, she wondered if perhaps there was more in common between them than she had thought. She realized that that fear was likely why Marianne stayed in the greenhouse so much, and it struck Catherine like an arrow that, well, it was the same for her. So, Catherine did her best to talk to Marianne like she wished she could talk to herself. 

“I think I'll be the judge of that. I’ve done a lot of unwise things in my life, but I’ve only ever regretted trusting one person.” Catherine said quietly, pausing a bit as she drew a deep breath, fighting the urge to curl up into herself or to flee back to her zucchini. “ I, I know what you mean, though. About wanting to keep people safe.” Marianne gave her that same curious look again. It was quickly followed by a furrowed brow, not of annoyance, but of concern. 

“I’m… unsure of how you mean.” Marianne said. Catherine chewed her lip, shrugging a bit. 

“I had someone I… I cared about very deeply, or thought I did, hurt me. I ended up hurting a lot of people I cared about before I got my head on straight, even the woman I, well the woman I love.” For once, the word came without choking her, and she found pride in that small victory. 

“My situation is… quite a bit different.” Marianne said. Catherine chuckled, catching her a bit off guard. 

“Everyone’s is, Lady Marianne.” Marianne nodded, clasping her hands together in her lap, looking as if she was thinking about something. Catherine sighed, thinking of all the things Manuella had said to her, and wondering how in the hell she was supposed to do all of this, this getting better, when things were just so fucked to begin with. After a while, she thought that all she could do was what she’d always done, her best with whatever she had, and damn the rest. “If um… If you ever want to talk about any of it… your ‘situation’, well you know where to find me.” Catherine pointed to the zucchini plant, smiling at the soft giggle that seemed to draw from her. Catherine stood, grabbing her pitcher and preparing to return to her plants, pausing for one moment to say something more. “It was nice talking to you, Lady Marianne.” 

“Likewise miss…?” Catherine realized what Marianne was trying to ask. 

“Catherine, but my friends call me Cat.”

Byleth stood across a burning hall in the heart of Enbarr from three young women she wanted nothing more than to walk to and stand beside. Dorothea, Petra, and Edelgard stood at the ready, weapons and magic drawn, staring down Byleth, Catherine and Bernadetta as they prepared for what would, goddess-willing, be the end of this horrid nightmare Byleth found herself stuck in, watching an entire twisted, morphed version of her life play out with nothing to do to stop herself as she watched her hands tear apart the ones she called friends. 

She had slain Hubert. Buried her blade deep into his stomach and watched him gasp his final breaths like a dying animal. Her hand’s had done it without mercy, without hesitation. It was cruel, heartless slaughter, and Byleth could still hear the man’s screams ringing her mind, accompanying the sounds of him coughing up blood as she threw his body to the ground. It made her want to tear herself apart, if that was what it took to make these visions stop. Byleth saw in her periphery the same portraits hanging on the halls that she had seen when she’d been in this building a lifetime ago, guiding Edelgard to her coronation. 

“Stay back. We will protect the Empress with all we have. You will not be getting past.” Petra said, her body adorned in leather and beads, her hair pulled into a weave of intricate braids and her blade brandished at the ready. Beside her Dorothea seemed to push more energy behind the spells resting in her hands, the flames burning brighter. 

“Petra, Dorothea, please don’t do this!” Bernadetta pleaded behind tears as she held her bow, the wood shaking in her hand.

“Stay back. All of you. I'll protect Edie with my life!” Dorothea said, resolutely as she readied to attack. Byleth did the same, the sword of the creatory in her hands, flowing like hot magma and ready to end the lives of even more of her students. 

“Baby.” Catherine said from beside her, Thunderbrand drawn as she whispered to Byleth from over her shoulder. “We’ll cover you, keep their attention while you run past and go after the Emperor.” 

“Catherine, are you insane?” Byleth asked through grit teeth. 

“Yeah, maybe a little. Just trust me, and run for the door as soon as we move, ok?” Catherine asked, Byleth’s head nodded. 

“Fine.” Byleth heard her own voice in her ears. “Just please, be careful.” 

“I always am, sugar.” Catherine said with a wink. A moment later, and everything began. The scene that followed was a horror show, a nightmare. 

Byleth saw Bernadetta’s shaking hand release an arrow that flew into Petra’s shoulder as all hell broke loose. Catherine ran forward and took the opportunity to attack the distracted princess of Brigid, but the woman seemed to easily dodge the massive heft of Thunderbrand as it swung toward her. Byleth ran past, barely avoiding a fireball from Dorothea as she managed to charge into the throne room. Catherine swung for another strike, but not only was Petra able to dodge it, she took the opportunity, pressing her advantage and burying her blade into Catherine’s abdomen. The knight screamed, grabbing Petra’s wrist with one hand, using the other to impale her on Thunderbrand’s blade, heaving her off of the ground, grunting in the pain as her abdomen clenched around the sword still embedded in her. Dorothea moved to aid her ally, launching a massive ball of flames that burst near Catherine’s feet, sending fire burning up her side. Bernadetta fired yet again, this time striking true as a fatal shot buried into Dorothea’s throat. 

Bernadetta sobbed as she watched the blood leaking from around the shaft of the arrow. Dorothea fell to her knees, clutching her throat with both hands, only slowing the blood as it began pouring out from around her fingers, dribbling down the front of her dress and onto the floor. Petra lay there, dying on the ground as she saw Dorothea begin to do just the same. Catherine pulled herself up, leaning against a wall as she pulled the blade from her chest, letting it clatter to the floor. 

Byleth wanted to tear the entirety of reality apart as she saw her student’s slaughtering each other. But all she saw was her own body moving, stepping through the doors to the throne room, where stood the woman herself, Edelgard with that twisted bone axe held in her hands. 

“Professor…” Edelgard began. 

“Edelgard, please, don’t make me do this. We were friends, once, do not make me kill you.” Byleth heard her voice, and the chuckle from Edelgard that followed. 

“I suppose you think you can defeat me. Is that right? But I will never give up. Not even to you, old friend. Even if my arms and legs failed me, I would still find a way to move forward. I will smash that false goddess and her minion into the ground! I will fight to free this world from her vile grasp!” 

Edelgard moved to her, and blade met axe with a monstrous scraping clang. The sound sent chills down Byleth’s ghost of a spine. She felt her arms push, trying to shove her away, but Edelgard pushed back harder, swinging out and slicing open a portion of Byleth’s left arm. Edelgard stepped back, weapon at the ready. Byleth heard herself chuckle. 

“You’ve grown quite skilled since that day in the training grounds.” She heard herself comment, clutching the injured arm. 

“Necessity drives growth.” Edelgard muttered, moving in for another attack. 

The sword of the creator glowed, splitting at its seams and extending, shooting forward like a dart and burying into Edelgard’s leg. The blade retracted, and Edelgard tried to step forward, but all there was to do was watch as another slashing strike caught her, tearing her flesh open from her left shoulder to the opposite thigh. Edelgard fell at Byleth’s feet, barely held up by her axe. 

“ It looks as though... my path... will end here, old friend. My teacher, claim your victory.” Byleth thanked the goddess as her eyes closed, but Edelgard’s screaming tore them back open again. “ Strike me down. You must! Even now, across this land, people are killing each other. If you do not act now, this conflict, it will go on forever. Your path... lies across my grave. It is time for you to find the courage to walk it.If I must fall... let it be at the hands of a friend.” Byleth watched her hands wrap around the hilt, and the horrifying feeling of familiarity struck as the blade swung down. “I wanted to walk with you...” If that was where the sentence was meant to end, Byleth knew not, but the blade tore her open before Edelgard could even finish. 

Byleth stood there, in the middle of the throne room, blood drenching her hands as she looked at the dead woman before her. 

“Byleth, baby, are you ok!?” Catherine called. Byleth turned, looking at the woman as she hobbled toward her, using Thunderbrand like a cane, blood seeming to drop down every limb. As she got close, Byleth saw that smug grin on her face falter, blood dribbling out of the corner of her mouth, before she saw her collapse onto the ground. 

Byleth flung herself down, knelt beside the woman as her breathing became shaky, weak. 

“It seems the goddess has more urgent need of me than I thought… Ain’t that just a bitch.” Catherine chuckled, more blood leaking out of her mouth as she did so. She turned over to Byleth, smile still in place as she tried to keep speaking. “I’m sorry baby…” A horrendous, body-wracking cough later, and she went limp in Byleth’s hands. 

Byleth heard herself sob, and for once the dream of her and her own consciousness were in sync as she heard her voice grew ragged, clinging to the body as if trying to will the soul back into it. 

“No, please… I can’t...not both of you…” She whispered into the dead woman’s hair, her face buried in her dead partner’s neck. She watched herself stand, shakily, dragging the sword from the ground and clutching at her own eyes to try and quell the tears. “How could this all go so wrong!” She screamed into the void. “I’ll fix it… I don’t care what it takes, it can’t end like this. I won’t let it!” The world shattered around her, and Byleth felt the sickening pull of time rewinding anew.

Then, there she was, shooting up in her bedroll, laid out on the floor in the cabin outside remire, still wearing those goddess-awful tights. 

Her nightmare continued. 

Ferdinand awoke in his bed, groggy eyed and sore as he stretched out, his arms nearly popping out of their sockets from the intensity of his stretch as a familiar weight on his chest grumbled, bidding him to ‘quit fussing about and go back to bed’. Ferdinand simply smiled, running his fingers through the short, greasy green locks atop his partner’s head, fighting the urge to giggle at the almost purring-like noise this drew from the stubborn Vestra. He knew his life would be forfeit if he were to ever tell another soul about that, or really any of the cute little peculiarities he’d found in Hubert’s behavior, hell, it’d likely be forfeit if he ever dared to call them cute anywhere beside in the company of their own room, but it was so worth the risk. 

There was much to be done that day, however, and he knew in all likelihood he’d need to be getting up sooner, rather than later. So, with a peck to Hubert’s forehead, he managed to sneak out from underneath the covers, walking to his closet and sorting through the mountain of black clothing on Hubert’s side, until he found his attire of choice for the day's events. 

It had been nearly a year that this war had been raging, and Ferdinand had long since abandoned his uniform from his days as a student in favor of something a bit more befitting of a representative of the new Adrestia. A dress shirt and plain cotton pants for the first layer, topped with a pair of heavy steel boots he kept to a mirror shine, along with a bit of armor going up the sides of his leg that had led to rather vicious mockery from Leonie, who had accused him of stealing some poor girls thigh high boots. But he paid her little mind in that. A long red coat trimmed with blue fabric and golden thread had replaced the one that same orange-haired entity of chaos had utterly ruined with her childish food flinging. It mattered not to him that it was nearly half a year ago, he had liked that coat! Over top of that, he wore his cloak and a set of shoulder armor that was none-too-subtly inspired by his own professor, who had remained all this time still at large. 

“Ferdinand, come back to bed.” Hubert grumbled from his position buried in the mountainous fluff of the mattress. “It’s much too early.” 

“Perhaps for you, my dear.” Ferdinand whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hand up and down the length of Hubert’s back. “But I have my rounds to do this morning. Besides, it is a bright, shining day outside. I had best go greet it.” 

“I have no idea how you can be so chipper at this time of the morning.” Hubert muttered, clearly struggling to stay awake. Ferdinand saw his partner’s eyes flutter shut again, and a quiet snoring began to escape his lips. Ferdinand leaned down, placing another kiss on Hubert’s cheek and pulling the covers up over him. 

“Someone has to, my love. With the professor gone, and Catherine… trying her best, it is left to me and Caspar to try and give people some levity.” Ferdinand said to no one in particular, running his thumb along the sharp curve of Hubert’s cheekbone. 

Strapping his saber in place, Ferdinand marched out to greet the dawn as he did every day, ready to conquer it in pursuit of his goals. He had a meeting with Edelgard in just over an hour and a half, so that gave him enough time to do his rounds, connecting with the various civilians and scattered political figures that had taken up solace alongside them all in the Monastery, and grab a bit of food before he had to begin the serious business of the day. His walks in the early morning were always one of his favorite parts of the day, in contrast to his partner’s night-owl antics that left him so grouchy in the mornings. Ferdinand could remember a night several months back where Seeing the smiling faces of young children, even in the heart of a war, made his spirit soar as he remembered what they did all this fighting for. 

He had been obstinate at first, when Edelgard had sold them the ideals of this grand rebellion, her great revolution against not just the church, but the lords it empowered. He had been raised under the banner of nobility, under the understanding of his responsibility to the peasantry to hold their best interest in his heart at all times, and yet there he was, being told he was to raise his blade not just against the church, the oppressive occupier of their home and puppeteer of their lives, but against that same nobility he had grown up within. It had struck him like a ton of bricks, but when he had been pulled aside by Hubert, told of the things the Seven had done in his youth, ordered to be done to Edelgard and her siblings, Ferdinand found himself wondering if he was truly the only one who ever held those noble ideals as any real guide, as opposed to some portrait hiding a rotting corpse. 

“Ferdi!!” A young voice cried out, and Ferdinand wheeled around dramatically, squatting down as he saw a young girl, no older than 7, running at him. He grabbed the girl up as she leapt at him, arms outstretched. He spun the young lady around, hearing her giggle profusely as her mother ran up to them. 

“Silvia! Do not keep tackling people like that!” The mother said, making the young girl hide herself in Ferdinand’s lapel. “I am so sorry, lord Aiger, I tried to stop her, but she’s so fast these days, I fear I can barely keep up.” The mother was a younger woman, barely 22, with faded scars on her cheek, as well as around both of her wrists. Ferdinand chuckled at her concern, bouncing on his knees slightly, shaking the girl in his arms playfully. 

“Miss Inessa, I’ve said it every morning for the past two months, and I’ll continue until it gets through. It is not a problem in the slightest. Miss Silvia’s greeting is the highlight of my morning.” Ferdinand turned his gaze to the small bundle of curled blue hair trying, unsuccessfully, to hide in his coat. “No you listen to your mother, little lady, or I shall have to let Ashe feed you to Seteth.” He said, setting the girl down as she giggled profusely. He stood back up after patting her head, putting his hands on his hips as he seemed to grow a bit more serious. “How are you two adjusting so far? I hope the accommodations have been comfortable.” 

“Very, Lord Aiger. It is nice to simply have a bed to sleep on and a door that locks from the inside. Everyone has been more than kind. We really cannot ever repay you.” Ferdinand waved away the very idea of it. 

“There is no need. To see the both of you out, free and happy is payment enough. I must be going, but the both of you, do not hesitate if there is ever anything you need.” He bid Inessa goodbye, walking off toward the next stop in his rounds. However, as he walked, he found himself reflecting back toward the day he had met Inessa and Silvia. It had been nothing new, at the start of the mission. A simple convoy to a noble lords house in the outskirts of Kingdom territory for a discussion of acquiescence to the authority of the imperial crown, and the transferring of authority to the newly formed Faergus Dukedom.

Ferdinand had been curious about the small territorial body overlooking the regions under Adrestian control in Faergus, but he was even more curious about the woman placed at its helm, a powerful mage named Cordelia who had at one time been the close advisor of the king of Faergus. Ferdinand had wondered how such an important and volatile territory would be left in the hands of a woman who had already betrayed the nation to which she swore allegiance once. However, when he saw the way Edelgard and Hubert acted around the woman when she had arrived at the Monastery, alongside Lord Arundel, he had thought better of challenging it directly. The way that woman drew the most scornful, distrusting looks from both of them had made him worried he was perhaps missing something. But, no matter his prodding, neither would say a word. 

But, all that besides the point, the territory he had led some members of the strikeforce to was under the control of a smaller noble lord, and there was little reason to suspect much beyond the betrayal of their team to the church. But that never occurred. No, instead things went an entirely different sort of wrong. 

“What do you think of this place?” He had asked Leonie as they marched into the manor, the walls lined with grand portraits of nobles whose stature seemed far too low to deserve such gravitas. Ferdinand, looking back, wondered how much he might have seen where he looking past simply how ‘little’ gravitas he thought the family deserved by stature, as opposed to the strange, fearful glances from the staff. 

“I think it reeks of horrid pompous assholes as much as it does cheap perfume and bad wine.” Leonie muttered under her breath, earning a chuckle from Dorothea. 

“Leonie dear, you took the words right from my mouth.” the songstress said, looking at the grand depiction of a large, scrawny nobleman with a wicked grin that sent shivers down her spine in fear. 

“This place is creepy.” Lysithea said absentmindedly, looking around at the heavy doors to every room. 

“Let us all just hold our tongues until we have made our arrangements, and from there, we can judge and mock as we please on our way home.” Ferdinand said, trying to not risk their chance at a small victory. There was a small collective muttering of agreement, and they were ushered into a large dining room, at the head of the table sat that same scrawny nobleman. His hair was thinning and black, slicked back with too much grease and the same was to be said of his mustache, his eyes were sunken, and looked at them as if he were trying to dig into their thoughts and steal their greatest weaknesses with just his gaze. 

“Welcome, Lord Aiger! So glad your delegation could make it to my grand abode.” The man said, beaconing them to sit. “Come, join me, and let us talk of peace.” Ferdinand and Ashe met eyes, as they both sat at the table, tension ripe in the room as if a beartrap would spring at the moment they took a seat. 

But, no trap ever came. The negotiations were at first the most common of haggling situations Ferdinand had ever been privy too. Ensuring things such as land and gold stay in his control for the foreseeable future, a concession Edelgard had agreed to make for lords who turned their territory over, figuring they would be better left to battle once the war was won. But, after a long while of talking, something strange seemed to enter the mans voice. 

“One final note. I am hoping to ensure that my and my family’s, how to say, privacy is ensured under Adrestian rule as it has been under the kingdom and church. My family takes things of such nature very seriously, and I’d be loathed to turn our land over, only to have it barged into and harassed every few weeks for this or that nonsense. The church has been very understanding of Faergus traditions, I would hate to have to end this deal before it can even occur simply because the crown will not do the same.” The scrawny lord offered, and Dorothea squeezed Bernadetta’s hand under the table as something in the man’s voice felt all-too familiar. 

“My good sir, I would hazard to say that I’ve heard no complaints from other lords as to any sort of lack of privacy, nor of any harassment.” Ferdinand said, feeling his comrades grow tense from the way the man spoke. 

“I must ponder what sort of traditions might raise such concern, however.” Leonie asked. The scrawny lord did little more than chuckle, shaking his head. 

“Oh, nothing of any importance to you, little miss. I am simply a man of principle, and in Faergus, privacy and family are as much principles as devotion to the goddess.” The lord coughed a bit. “Perhaps we ought to take a recess, and reconvene after I’ve taken my supper.” He stood, walking without waiting for any agreement. The members of the strike force present seemed to shift a bit, visibly uncomfortable. Ashe stood, hand resting on the axe at her hip as she moved toward the other door. When Leonie tried to ask what she was doing, Ashe simply said she was going to look for the bathroom, obviously lying. 

“This entire damn situation gives me the creeps.” Dorothea said openly, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“That scrawny little shit looks like the type to betray us in a heartbeat.” Leonie said with certainty. 

“That is exactly why we are talking to him in the first place.” Ferdinand pointed out. “This man is a noble of the Holy Kingdom, differences are pronounced, yes, but there’s no reason to doubt him any more than any of the other lords we have negotiated with. If he is willing to turn over his territory to us, it is worth collaborating with him, even if he is… strange.” Ferdinand took a drink from the small glass of tea set before him, cringing a bit as it tasted utterly revolting. 

“Oh for the love of the goddess, Ferdinand, his nobility goes against his favor, not in it. Or have you forgotten that the nobility is as much our enemy in this war as Rhea?” Dorothea spat in a poisonous whisper. 

“I have forgotten nothing, Dorothea. I understand our war, but I fight it because I trust Edelgard’s judgement, not because of her cause alone. There must be some good men among the ranks of the nobility, even if some of them might be a bit strange, and we have little more than your all’s bad feelings about this place to go on.” Ferdinand said quietly, hoping not to be overheard. 

“This entire place feels too familiar.” Bernadetta toyed with a piece of silverware, her eyes seeming to almost always be flitting between one door or the other. “I don’t like it.” Dorothea rested her hand on Bernadetta’s, and Leonie could only groan. 

“Yeah, Ferds, I think this shit is suspect as all hell. We should be careful before making any sort of deal with this guy.” Leonie tapped her fingers on her bow. “Goddess’s sake, how damned long does it take to eat a meal?” 

“The pompous ass probably needs to have his damned mustache waxed between each bite.” Dorothea said, earning a chuckle from the archer. 

“Please, dear goddess, let me go!” An unfamiliar voice screamed from the doors behind them, as Ashe barged through, dragging a bloodied young man into the dining hall. 

“Shut up or I’ll slit your throat.” Ashe said, throwing the man to the floor. 

“Ashe, what in the hell have you done?” Ferdinand asked, rising from his chair to look at the young nobleman groveling on the ground. A massive gash on his forehead was absolutely gushing blood onto the fine rug underneath them. 

“Believe me, he deserves worse. You’ll want to follow me. Now.” Ashe said, kicking the groveling man in the ribs with the tip of her boot. “Move an inch, and I’ll skin you alive, pig. Do I make myself clear?” As the man whimpered in his agreement, Ashe looked to Leonie. The archer nodded, not even needing to be asked to keep a very close eye on the nobleman. 

Ferdinand had been in a blind panic at that point, trying to parse how in the hell he could save any kind of negotiation after Ashe had assaulted one of the lord’s children. He’d been bouncing between lambasting Ashe for being so damned reckless, the silver haired woman staying stone-faced the entire time, and trying to ask what in the hell had happened. But then he met Silvia and Inessa. 

And then everything about what Ashe had done made sense. 

They had been chained in a small room, hidden behind a bookshelf on the wall, alone. Ferdinand had had to approach them carefully, promising her had no ill intent, before they would speak to him. 

Inessa explained herself to be a former ‘friend’ of one of the nobleman’s sons, to whom her daughter was an illegitimate child. It was clear they were not the first to be held here. 

Ashe explained that she had talked with an especially timid looking maid, and after quite a bit of prodding, the maid had led her to the bookcase, which was simple to open with an axe at her disposal. The young man she had brought in, bloody and ragged, had found her in the commotion, and tried to threaten her for skulking around ‘his home’. It was around then that Ferdinand noticed the small, bloody pool that had collected at the corner of the room. Ashe happily explained how she had smashed his head against the bookshelf, several times, and then dragged the bastard to them. 

“Were I in a better state of mind at the time, I’d have simply cut his stomach open with my axe.” Ashe declared in a hushed whisper as to not upset Sylvia. 

“While I understand the sentiment, I think for both their sakes it’s better that you didn’t.” Ferdinand muttered back. 

Once they had freed the captives of the family, Ferdinand left Ashe in charge of ensuring their protection, a job she agreed to with the utmost zeal. He departed for the dining hall, an unfamiliar fire burning within him as he held his hand on the hilt of his saber, murderous intent emanating off of him as he strode in through the door, seeing the remaining representatives of the strike force up, weapons at the ready, stood across from a small battalion of knights that had been apparently summoned in the time he had been gone. The scrawny lord stood, his bloodied son in hand, at the head of the table, rage in his eyes. 

“You damned fools think you can barge into my home, assault my poor son, and tear apart my home without consequence? You arrogant children!” The lord squawked, prompting Ferdinand to draw his blade. 

“I think if there is anyone who seems to be dodging consequences, it is you. I will not abide such horrid abuse, nor will I debase myself to the point of actually making a deal with you.” 

“Oh, such strong words for a petty excuse of a noble who is outnumbered, two to one.” The lord squawked. 

“What’s the plan, Ferdi?” Dorothea asked, fire burning in her eyes as brightly as it was in her hands as she glared down the pack of knights. 

“The lord is mine, and I believe Ashe has some business with the son when we’re done with this. Aside from that…” Ferdinand lifted the blade, dropping into his fencing stance. “Kill them all. Make it painful.” No one needed to be told twice. Ferdinand was not one to say something like that lightly, and they knew whatever the two had seen, he was likely being reserved in his reaction. 

Ferdinand remembered leaping over the table, driving the heel of his boot into the lord’s chest and shoving him back through the door to the kitchen. The bloodied son fell and began weakly crawling toward the other door, only for an arrow to lodge into the ground just in front of him. He looked over, and the raw threatening aura of the glare Leonie shot him made him go still. 

Ferdinand ducked a swipe from the lord’s shortsword, retaliating with his saber to barely make a nick in his tie. With his free hand, Ferdinand sent a punch into the lord’s chin and grabbed him by the lapel. 

“You are a mockery to the cause of nobility, you shameful little worm!” Ferdinand was launched back as the lord smashed his head into Ferdinand’s nose. However, the both of them ended up on the ground, as the lord seemed a bit untrained in the practice. Ferdinand, on the other hand had much more experience, and moved to start getting back up much faster. 

“You know nothing, you little wretch! Your putrid family may be happy to let squalid little tarts breed their way into status, but we do not abide that heinous opportunism in Faergus.” The lord spat, grabbing the counter and trying to hoist himself up. “I have done what I needed to to ensure the maintenance of my family’s good name, to ensure our standing, to ensure we are not drawn down into the bogs of poverty!” Ferdinand threw a slightly wobbly punch, decking the man across the chin before the both of them fell back to the floor. This time, however, Ferdinand landed on top of the lord, his saber having been lost somewhere in his hazy attempt to stand. He could only throw punch after punch into the monster’s face. 

“You think I’m some mockery to nobility?” Another strike, the man laughed. “I am considered a bleeding heart in Faergus! I’m the one the others call too soft!” Another punch, and Ferdinand felt the lord’s nose crack under his knuckles. “Do you have any idea how many bastard children die before they even get a name in this kingdom?” Another strike, another twisted laugh as the man felt his lip split. “No, you don’t! But I do! I know the men that get called to dispose of them! The nobility can’t abide too much growth, it would collapse! There’d be no telling a difference between peasant and prince if every bastard were left to galavant around!” Another strike, and at this point the man’s face was as vile outside as he was inside. “We do what we must to protect our way of life, to protect ourselves! You’ll see!” Ferdinand had had of that vile voice, reaching down and grabbing the lord by his hair, hefting his head up and slamming it down into the tile floor beneath him. He did it again, hearing the sickly crack of bone. He did it again, and saw the lord’s eyes roll back into his head. Again, and again, and again, Ferdinand struck skull against stone, until beneath the lord’s head lay a puddle of blood, bone and scattered grey matter. 

Ferdinand’s hair hung down around his head, much of it covered in scattered blood splatter as he panted, his teeth still bared. He looked down at his hands, every inch coated in blood, and yet deep down he struggled to feel any remorse for the man. No. Not a man. A beast. A monster. 

He fell off of the corpse, finally being able to stand as he began searching, eventually finding his discarded saber and retrieving it, walking out into the dining hall whose silence could only indicate one side had won. He was thankful to see it was his own.

Leonie stood with the sniveling, bloodied form of the lord’s son held up by his collar. Around them, he could see scattered corpses of guardsmen, some with the chest pieces of their armor torn open from the inside, the flesh exposed being burned and shredded. Some had arrows in almost every major joint, then finished with one to the throat. Some had entire limbs missing. 

“You said make it painful.” Lysithea said, shrugging. Ferdinand walked over, grabbing their captive and dragging him along, beaconing the rest to follow. They marched through the halls, until they reached the door in the bookshelf. Ferdinand got Ashe’s attention, and the two took the captive toward the door to the front entryway, Ashe taking a moment to explain everything to the others as she had Ferdinand. While the two were gone, the rest of the strike force stayed with Inessa and Sylvia. Bernadetta took a seat beside Inessa, and Dorothea ended up sat on the floor, little Silvia showing her a small collection of doodles she had on loose paper.

“So you all…” Inessa began, clearly a bit out of practice with socializing. “Where are you from?” 

“We’re from Adrestia.” Bernadetta said, trying to put on a soft, reassuring smile. She knew how hard it must be for the poor woman right now better than most. “We are stationed out at Garreg Mach.” 

“The Monastery? But I thought the Church of Seiros didn’t allow that sort of thing.” Inessa said, confusion plain to see in her expression. Bernadetta realized that there wasn’t much chance these women knew anything of the war. 

“There has been… a lot of change going on lately. We can tell you more about it when we have gotten you somewhere safe.” Bernadetta said, Inessa seemed relieved, as if she had expected them to simply abandon her. 

“I… thank you. But I must warn you, I have no gold to my name. I won’t be able to pay you for your kindness.” 

“Kindness is not something that is paid for. We’re helping you because it is the right thing to do. You have nothing to fear.” Bernadetta said, looking down to see Dorothea peaking up at her, a proud smile on her face as she was laid on her stomach beside Silvia as she was sketching on another sheet of paper. 

“That’s a very pretty drawing, Silvia. What is it of?” Dorothea asked, turning back to the haphazard form of little legs on the paper. 

“Oh! It’s a spider.” Silvia said, remaining focused on her doodle, her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth, eyes squinting just a bit. 

“Oh very fun. Do you like spiders?” Dorothea asked, propping her hands under her chin. 

“Yeah! They’re really neat. They just crawl around, and eat all the mean bugs that get in here when it’s hot. I like their little legs. They’re just so tiny! How do they lift the rest of it?” Silvia asked, utterly bewildered by the concept of spider legs. 

“Maybe that’s why they have so many of them.” Dorothea offered, giggling a bit at the astounded face the child made, her jaw literally dropping at the revelation. 

“Wow... What’s your favorite animal?” Silvia asked, poking Dorothea with the dull end of her pencil. 

“I like wyverns.” Dorothea said. “Someone very special to me rides one into battle, and they’re just so majestic.” Silvia looked a little confused. “Oh, um, they’re very very pretty.” 

“You know someone who rides dragons?” Silvia asked, eyes wide. Dorothea figured it was easier to go along than correct her on the name. She nodded. 

“Yes, I know several in fact. My friend Ashe, the nice lady with the grey hair and the axe? She has hers right outside. I’m sure she could take you for a ride with her when they’re done with whatever it is they’re doing.” 

“Oh, is she the special one you were talking about?” Leonie had to hold back laughter, covering it as a cough into her hand as she saw Dorothea trying to do the same. 

“No. Ashe is very special to me, but not like who I was talking about. All my friends are special to me.” Dorothea said, after finally recovering. 

“Oh! That sounds really nice. Can I be your friend?” Dorothea smiled and nodded, only to be taken aback slightly as Silvia tackled her in a hug. For such a tiny girl, she was surprisingly strong. 

“Is that safe, taking her on a wyvern?” Inessa asked Bernadetta in a hushed whisper. Bernadetta nodded. 

“Yes. Ashe is a great flyer, and would make sure she was safe. Her wyvern looks a bit scary, but she’s like a giant puppy with wings.” Bernadetta assured. Inessa visibly relaxed, looking down to see Dorothea hoisting Silvia into the air, still sat on the ground as the girl giggled profusely. Bernadetta noticed something in Inessa's eyes. Concern. “She’s going to be ok. After all of this I mean.” 

“You speak of it with such certainty.” Inessa said wistfully. 

“Because I’ve been through it. She will be ok. Not unharmed, but ok.” 

“I hope so… she’s spent almost all her life here. I just worry it’s going to be too hard for her to not be hurt by this.” Bernadetta rested her hand on Inessa’s, patting it reassuringly. 

“It won’t be easy. But, if she has good people around her…” Bernadetta paused, meeting eyes with Dorothea and smiling. “She’ll find a way to grow out of whatever marks this place leaves on her.” Inessa smiled, and the group turned as they heard footsteps approaching. Ashe and Ferdinand walked in, knuckles bloodied. 

“Let’s move quickly, if we want to reach the Monastery before nightfall.” Ferdinand said, and the group prepared to leave. Leonie sniffed the air as the moved to the front door, catching the faintest hint of smoke. As they were walking out, Leonie pulled Ashe aside. 

“What the hell happened? Where’s the other guy?” Leonie asked, resting her hand on Ashe’s shoulder. “Are you ok?” 

“I’m fine.” Ashe said quietly, not meeting her eyes. “We roughed the guy up, told him if he told us if there were any other rooms we’d let him go, that if he showed us we’d let him live.” Ashe spoke almost mechanically. 

“And?” 

“He said there was other rooms, but they were all empty. Then he showed us, proved it to us.” 

“And?!” Leonie asked, concern leaching into her voice as she wondered why Ashe was acting so strangely. 

“We lied. I lied. And I’m not sorry for it.” Ashe said, finally meeting her eyes as Leonie realized why Ashe’s axe was now bloodied. The resolve seemed to fade as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “I...I couldn’t. I couldn’t let him live. I couldn't send that evil out into the world.” Ashe said, as if begging Leonie for forgiveness. Leonie merely wrapped her partner in her arms, and let her stay there as long as she needed. However as the smoke grew thicker, they were forced to move. A while later they caught up to the rest of the group on the march to Garreg Mach. Ashe landed beside the path as Leonie rode her horse up beside them. Ashe hopped off of Seteth, who followed close behind on foot, or claw, as Ashe walked up to the group, specifically to Inessa and Silvia. 

“Now, I hear I’m supposed to give someone a lift back home?” Ashe asked, squatting down to be at eye level with Silvia. “Would that just so happen to be you, young lady?” Silvia giggled, looking up at her mom expectantly. Ashe stood, about to offer some reassurance, when Inessa smiled and let go of Silvia’s hand. 

“Go on.” Inessa conceding, causing the young girl to cheer, running forward and latching onto Ashe’s leg in a hug. Inessa looked at Ashe. “Just be careful with her. She is all I have.” 

“Of course, ma’am.” Ashe said, hoisting Silvia up onto her hip and walking over to an awaiting Seteth. 

“Is… is he gonna eat me?” Silvia whispered, trying to hide herself in Ashe’s hooded jacket. Ashe laughed, reaching up and petting Seteth’s snout. 

“No way. Seteth here is an absolute sweetheart. She’s a bit big, and she’s been through a lot, but she means no harm at all.” Right as Silvia seemed to start believing her, Seteth opened her jaws, clamping down around Ashe’s forearm and making Silvia instead scream in fear. Ashe sighed, looking at the wyvern who merely looked up at her, the long scar that ran across her eye making the strangely cute expression slightly concerning. “Really? Right now? Now is when you decide it’s playtime?” Ashe rolled her eyes and pulled her arm out, showing it to Silvia. “Hun look, look, i’m fine. Seteth was just playing around. She’s silly like that. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Ashe said, knowing full well she had seen Seteth tear entire men in half. After some more assurance, Silvia reached out, petting the massive beast’s snout, quite literally saying ‘boop’ as she did so. Ashe climbed atop Seteth, and the two were off. 

The smoke that rose from the manor they had left rose into the air for hours after they were gone, until, nothing was left of that family but ash. From that day forward, Ferdinand had become one of Edelgard’s staunchest supporters in her war, both against the church and the nobility. 

Back in the present day, Ferdinand marched on past the greenhouse, peaking in to see Catherine hard at work, currently elbow deep in a tomato plant. The blonde had still refused to let her hair grow out, but she seemed to be getting better at taming it, so that it at least did not look so hacked apart as it fell into her face. 

“Catherine, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” Ferdinand asked, taking a minute to wave at Marianne, who was sitting in one corner looking over some flowers. Catherine shook her head, almost chuckling. 

“I’ve told you how many times now, twinkle-dick, not on sundays. I work late on sundays.” Catherine said, her voice slightly muffled by the face full of foliage. Ferdinand looked less than impressed with the nickname, however he was happy just to be talking with her, so he was lenient. 

“Fine, you stubborn old crone, just don’t go working yourself into a fit.”

“Whatever, tell your boytoy his nightshade plant has taken well to the soil, and I should have some good flowers for him by next week.” Ferdinand bid them both adieu, and moved to his next stop in his morning routine. 

Catherine remained there, knelt on the floor of the greenhouse, in the midst of trimming and pruning a rather intensely productive raspberry bush, gathering the ripened berries into her basket, tossing the twigs and leaves and other pieces onto a pile to go to the composter. 

That had been a more recent addition, after a Sunday-night session with Edelgard where she had mentioned the fact she was concerned some of the flowerbeds might be struggling with loss of nutrients. Without a word, a few days later an old weapons transport crate was dropped off beside the greenhouse, and Catherine got told that she could come by the dining hall at night to gather food scraps for it. A little bit of elbow grease and one tarp later, and she had a functioning compost bin. It was a nice addition. 

“Hey Annie, have you got my big trimmers? This son of a bitch is not cutting and I’m worried if I keep trying to force it I’m going to chop off one of my fingers in the process.” Catherine called, seeing the young woman standing over beside a planter, trimming away at a large bush of roses. Marianne had remained a steady presence in the greenhouse for the past several months, only disappearing when she was sent off on this or that mission for the Emperor with the rest of the Strike Force.

Over time, Marianne had grown a bit more engaged with the planting and maintenance work, beyond just her one personal flower bed. It had gotten to the point Catherine had been forced to stitch a crude work apron together for her to keep the woman from ruining her nice dress. That had been a long, slow process however. Catherine had had to reassure her almost ten times an hour for those first few days that she wasn’t going to ruin the plants just by touching them. But in all honesty, Catherine being forced to tell someone else that they won’t destroy everything they care about just by touching it made it a bit easier for her to say the same to herself, so she was thankful for it. 

“Yes, I do. Give me just a moment, and I should be finished with them. I have an appointment with Flayn and Mercedes for training in just a bit, and I’ll need to clean up before I go.”

“Don’t worry, Mari, take your time and be careful. I can’t count how many times I've nearly cut myself with those things. Tell Flayn I said hi, and let Mercedes know that I should have the berries for their sweetbread in a day or two.” Marianne nodded, turning back to her roses. 

“I’ll pass it along.” Marianne said. 

“What are you training with those two for anyway? I thought you were a reason caster, not faith.” Catherine asked, popping a berry into her mouth as she leaned back, sitting on the edge of the flowerbed. 

“I’m… I’m looking to expand my skill set. They offered to let me try practicing with them, so I’m going to be meeting them at the training grounds for lunch.” Marianne explained, snipping a few dead stems. 

“Hey, good for you, hun. I hope things go well.” Catherine said. “Just don’t go throwing yourself onto the ground too often.” Marianne looked at her as if she had just spoken a foreign language. “Oh, uh, shit sorry, Annie, kind of an inside joke.” 

“No, it’s fine, I was just confused. Why exactly would someone throw themselves on to the ground?” Marianne asked, taking the clippers and handing them to Catherine. Catherine said her thanks, offering a hand full of berries that were gratefully accepted. 

“Well, I guess ‘throw yourself’ isn’t accurate as much as ‘get thrown onto’.” Marianne looked even more confused. “Oh goddess, ok, so about a year and a half ago, I was working with the Eagles and training pretty regularly. Well, Ashe was trying to learn how to stay on her wyvern in combat, cus that girl was flopping around like a freaking ragdoll in a tornado, I swear.” Marianne giggled as Catherine smiled at the fond memory. “So, I had made an offer to her to help learn, and finally after months she took me up on it. So, I end getting a wyvern I know will be perfect for her from the stables, one that I had hatched from my squire days, and ended up spending a few days each week with her training to get it right. Well, the first day didn’t go so well, but that is a whole other story. But there was this one day, after a couple sessions in a row of her staying on really well, where something weird happened. So, I had my back to her, and I was refastening my boot as she was landing Seteth, the wyvern, not the lord, and as i’m finishing up, I turn back to see her spiralling in the air, before landing square on her ass.” Catherine laughed so hard she nearly choked on her berries. 

“Oh goodness, was she ok?” Marianne asked. 

“I mean, you see that she survived, so don’t worry about that.” Catherine said. “But, I was losing my shit. I’m running up to her, trying to help her up, asking her if she’s ok, if anything feels broken or numb, and i’m like, looking at her and trying to see if there’s blood anywhere, and once I’ve seen that she’s not dying, I was like ‘Hey, kiddo, what the fuck?’ Well, she goes and tells me that Seteth just got super excited when landing and flung her onto the ground. See, Seteth is a lot of things, but easily excitable aint one of them, so I knew something wasn’t right there.” Catherine chuckled as she wiped her hair out of her face, smearing a line of dirt through the blonde locks. “Well, after about half an hour of interrogating, she finally cracks and admits the truth. Wanna know what the fuck happened?” 

“I suppose.” Marianne said, stealing another handful of berries. 

“Well, when Seteth had landed, this fucking wonderful, wonderful dumbass went and got so full of herself that she thought it would be fun to try and do a frontflip off of Seteth’s head and onto the ground. But somehow she forgot she has the fucking reflexes of a dying turtle, and barely managed not to fall onto her head.” Catherine lost it at that point. “I swear, Ashe protected that secret like it was the location of the goddess herself. I had to pry that shit out of her. It was a damn good day…” Catherine said, seeming to go quiet, shaking her head as she passed the clippers from one hand to another. “ Um, thanks for the clippers, Annie. Let me know if you need them back.” 

“I won’t. I need to be heading for the training grounds soon. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow!” Marianne said, snagging a third handful of berries before making her way to the door. 

“Hey! Calm it down there! I need these for tonight, you little shit.” Catherine shook her head and looked at the small pile of berries she had already collected. While she’d been working hard to try and patch up everything she’s damaged over her first few months after the start of the war, her produce had been surprisingly effective at helping that. She had brought some berries and fruit to Flayn a little while after Sunday dinners had started with Edelgard, and a day later Mercedes walked in with a small plate of sweetbread and offered one to her. Now it was just sort of a tradition. Catherine brough them fruit, a few days later they’d make some sort of sweets and let her have some, then they’d sit around the greenhouse and chat before everyone would go back to their daily activities. 

But, this basket wasn’t for Flayn and Mercedes, it was for tonight. Edelgard had been adamant when Catherine had mentioned having a raspberry bush that she get first dibs on the fruit, and Catherine had, completely by accident of course, gone to the library and found a not-too-difficult recipe on Raspberry preserves that she thought would be perfect. She’d even made sure to get it the official seal of approval from Mercedes, the unofficial saint of baking herself. Although Catherine couldn’t quite tell what that weird look Mercedes had given her after she’d explained what was going on was meant to be about. Maybe that was just Mercedes. 

Catherine had been eating dinner with the Eagles for a few months now, and thankfully it was a little less awkward than it had been that first night. That first night, she’d literally just sat there, quietly eating stir fry and praying that no one talked to her. No one had. If it hadn't been for being sat beside Flayn and across from Ferdinand, it was probable she’d’ve just fled. 

Slowly, over the course of the next few weeks, she ended up being able to integrate a little bit better into the conversations, actually talking with and joking along with the rest of the Eagles, and some days she could actually almost convince herself that things weren’t so different as they had been before, except for two glaring absences. 

The first was obvious, as even with all their searching Ashe and Leonie still hadn’t found a trace of Byleth. But another absence Catherine noticed more and more was Edelgard. The woman almost never took her meals with the rest of the team.. 

Catherine remembered one day, about a month after the greenhouse incident and after about three weeks of almost never seeing Edelgard in the dining hall outside of sunday nights, she had finally decided she might as well try and help out more than just in the garden. 

She had been sat at the table with the rest of the Eagles, sandwiched between Flayn and mercedes on one side, while a young woman and her daughter, who catherine had learned were named Inessa and Sylvia, sat on her other.

“All I am trying to say is that there is little difference between a dragon and one of those flying crest beasts, and dragon is a much shorter name.” Ferdinand said, his hands raised in surrender.

“And what I am trying to explain to you is that there are, in fact, several very very large differences, so to call the flying crest beasts dragons would be wildly inaccurate as well as confusing.” Hubert lectured, pointing to his partner with his fork. 

“No, we are not having this debate again.” Lysithea groaned as she looked at Hubert and Ferdinand. “I swear it’s every other week with you people. 

“The boundaries of study and research may not be of interest to you, miss Lysithea, but it is in fact very important to me.” Hubert pointed at the woman as he spoke. 

“Excuse me, I’m quite adept in my research I’ll have you know, you slimey haired little weasel!” Lysithea growled. “I’ll outclass you in magic any day of the week!” 

“I’d like to see you try.” Hubert squinted at the girl as he challenged her bluff.

“You’re on! I’ll kick your ass!” Lysithea said standing quickly. 

“Lysithea! Language!” Ferdinand gestured to Sylvia. “Catherine, could you..” 

“Yeah, I know the drill.”

“Thank you. And back to more important topics, why would it ever be confusing?!” Ferdinand demanded. 

“Because what if we are needing to discuss both at the same time, and everyone present simply loses the entire point while trying to decipher if you mean dragons or crest beasts.” Hubert said pointedly, 

“You two seem to be doing just fine holding a conversation now.” Linhardt said, leaning his head in his hand as he twirled a fork in his noodles. 

“Yeah, but Hubert has a point. What if we need to talk about both in the heat of battle, and someone misunderstands their orders?” Caspar nodded to Catherine, who covered Sylvia’s ears, causing the small girl to pout. “It would be a shitshow.” 

“I think if you’re in a battle against both crest dragons and real dragons at once and you don’t already have a plan you’re pretty well screwed either way.” Catherine had pressed both of her hands over Sylvia’s ears as she said the word ‘screwed’. 

“Yeah I have to agree.” Leonie had spoken up from almost the exact opposite seat in the table. “Like it is stupid but you two are getting your panties in a twist for nothing.” 

“I’ll beg your pardon, Leonie!” Hubert chastised from his seat.

“Oh go fuck yourself Hubert.” Leonie added, Catherine doing her job and ensuring no profanity fell on poor Sylvia’s ear. As she was about to pull her hands away, she felt a tug on her sleeve coming from the young girl in question. 

“What’cha need, kid?” Catherine asked. 

“How’d you get that big cut on your eye?” Sylvia asked, poking Catherine’s scar. 

“Sylvia, that is rude.” Inessa chided. “I am so sorry lady Cath…” but Catherine was already leaning down, a grin on her face. 

“You really wanna know?” Catherine asked, drawing silence from the others at the table as they realized none of them knew how that scar had seemed to appear, save for Flayn but of course no one but her and Catherine knew that. 

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” Sylvia was absolutely bouncing in her chair. Catherine leaned down, cupping her hands around Sylvia’s ear as she pretended to whisper.. 

“I fell while running with scissors.” Catherine lied, speaking loud enough to be heard by most around them, earning a polite giggle from Inessa and several groans and eye rolls from others. It was after a little while that Catherine stood from the table, gathering her dishes and walking to the front. She dropped the plate and silverware off before walking to the serving area and chatting with the main server. A minute later, Catherine was walking into the administrative building with a plate of food. 

“Where the hell is she going?” Ashe asked, looking as the woman disappeared.

“She’s walking off into the main building with a bunch of food. Where do you think? Who is the one person that, like, never eats with us?” Lysithea replied, stuffing a pastry into her mouth. 

“I have noticed that those two seem to have gotten rather friendly as of late.” Linhardt observed. 

“Is there something you mean to imply?” Hubert asked as if debating whether to murder the man or simply torture him. 

“Nothing at all.” Linhardt mumbled. 

“I mean, it is kind of weird that they both skip Sunday dinners.” Capsar looked as if he were ready to bolt for the nearest exit as he spoke, his eyes fixed on Hubert like a deer’s on a hunter. 

“I’m sure it is unrelated. Edelgard never takes meals with us, Catherine staying late in the greenhouse on sundays is little more than coincidence. You both are drawing patterns from broken clocks.” Ferdinand spoke without a shadow of a doubt. 

“I mean, did we ever really figure out the whole deal with them and the professor?” Caspar asked. “It might not be so ridiculous. I mean they were both nail…” before Caspar could even say the -ing he felt the murderous glare of Hubert, Leonie and Inessa all land on him at once. “Uh… they were both dating the professor, I think.” Caspar corrected, breathing a sigh of relief as the glares grew slightly less murderous. 

“I would rather we all just drop this topic entirely.” Hubert declared. 

“Seconded.” Leonie said, gesturing to Inessa who sighed and covered her daughters ears. “Now shut the fuck up about my sister you cretins or I’ll break your ribs. All of them.” Leonie turned back to Inessa with a polite smile. “Thank you, Lady Inessa. Pardon my comrade’s ill repute.” 

Catherine marched up the stairs to the Audience chamber, where she was relatively certain Edelgard spent more time than she spent awake. The plate of food in hand, she moved past the double door and headed to the door to the office. 

She paused for a minute, looking at the door as its very visage made her stomach churn. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to ease the wrenching in her stomach. Once she had settled most of her nerves, she opened her eyes and went to enter the room. 

However it would seem in her anxiety, she had forgotten that doors needed to be opened before they could be walked through, and she smashed her head against the hard wood, muttering obscenities as she grasped her forehead. The door opened a moment later, and Catherine was greeted by the face of a very tired Edelgard. 

“Oh, Catherine. What did you need?” Edelgard seemed to think for a minute. “It… it isn’t Sunday, is it?” Catherine shook her head. Trying to stand nonchalantly as if she hadn’t just brained herself on a door. 

“Nope, don’t worry you didn’t lose a day. But, I figured you could probably use some chow.” Catherine handed the plate over, and the tired look of thanks from her old friend made Catherine glad she had muscled through her fear, or at least that she had tried to. Damn her head hurt. 

After a few more weeks of running Edelgard the occasional plate of food, that office felt more like Edelgard’s to her than Lady Rhea’s… Rhea’s. It was easy to walk in now, and simply drop the plate on the table, chat about whatever nonsense the two had on their minds, and then call it a night. 

Terse, heavy footsteps moving toward the front of the greenhouse snapped Catherine from her recollection. She listened a bit more carefully, realizing by the shift in the light she had likely been zoned out for quite some time, and heard a few familiar and unfamiliar voices moving with the footsteps. For some reason, the unfamiliar voice set Catherine on edge. She moved over to the front, making sure not to be visible from any of the windows, as she grabbed a shovel leaned against the wall just as it began to fall, thankfully catching it before it could clatter to the ground. She thought she ought to set it down, but before she could she heard Edelgard and Hubert speaking to someone, and was forced to clutch the tool and pray it didn’t make her any more noticeable. 

Whether that decision saved her or doomed her, it would never quite be certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall! Hope you enjoyed this weeks update! Lemme hear your thoughts in the comments if you want to share them! Have a good week!
> 
> Also, I feel a bit nervous because I have a few original characters in brigid that I'm slightly nervous about, and want to handle respectfully and well, so I would be curious to see what yall thought of Alexandra!!


	27. Chapter 27: Unsainted Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine lets her protectiveness get the better of her, and risks losing her lfie for it. Edelgard and Catherine make another step closer to each other, while Marianne finds herself in her own curious dance with a very chipper wyvern rider and an overly friendly horse rider. Catherine talks to a few people she hasn’t spoken to in some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! This week, we’ve got some big shit, leading into some even BIGGER shit for next week!!! I’m very excited about this weeks update, and I hope everyone enjoys it! I have a big announcement, and that’s that I’m putting together a zine! Along with a good friend of mine, Eli, I’m helping put together Somewhere to Belong: A trans wlw/mlm relationship zine, it’s @3hTransZine on Twitter! If yall could, going to check out the twitter and fill out the interest check would be hella hella appreciated, and I thank you all! 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage and check out Somewhere to Belong, a FETH Trans wlw/mlm zine @3HTransZine

The heavy trees of the lush forests of brigid billowed in the wind of a soft breeze that with it carried the heavy scent of salt from the sea. On the edge of a heavily worn road leading from one of the larger cities of Brigid to several small interconnected villages, Petra stood atop her wyvern, hand on the pommel of her sword as it rested in the scabbard at her hip. Farther up the path, Petra could see a large orchard of Brigin olive trees growing. She took in a deep breath, the scent of Brigid so full of life and growth, even after all that had been done to it. 

The outpost they were observing was a squat, two story affair. It was cold, lifeless in its design, with sun bleached walls that seemed almost blinding in the afternoon sun. The windows were all barred, not to keep anything in, but clearly to keep others out. The front entrance, a pair of heavy iron doors that currently stood open, was filled with several armed men in various versions of destroyed Adrestian uniform. Some had simply removed their armor entirely, while others seemed to have taken the time to cut off the various adornments and vandalized the embellishments laid in the steel of their platemail to disfigure the two headed eagle on it. The men all seemed bored of looking at them, and Petra wondered if any would be smart enough to surrender this time. 

They never were. 

“What shall we do, my queen?” Alexandra asked, her axe slung over her shoulder. Petra answered Alexandra’s question with one of her own. 

“You have told them we intend to remove them?” 

“No, my queen, we awaited your order and ensured no one fled in the meantime.” 

“Well, that is wise. Allow me to see if I can gain some understanding of these men, though I use the term loosely.” Petra heard a soft chuckle from Alexandra and several of the other women stood around them. A quick tap of her heel, and Pyrois dropped her head, allowing Petra and step off into the dirt below as the wyvern took to the sky, reaching a low cruising height and circling overhead of the crowd, Petra stepped forward before coming to a stop in front of the Adrestian deserter. Petra returned to speaking Fodish for the first time in weeks as she looked at the small battalion. “Good afternoon. I believe you men are lost. Are you in need of direction to the nearest port? I know for a fact the Emperor is in need of all the troops she can get her hands on for her war.” One of the deserters, a tall, balding man with a squared jaw and icy blue eyes looked down his nose at her. 

“No, I think we’re exactly where we’re meant to be, young lady. I would suggest your friends and you move along, and get away from our base.” Alexandra’s snort of indignation could be heard even from the distance the rest of Petra’s team stood. 

“So, clearly there is a misunderstanding, for this is not your base, and you will be vacating it, and from this land. Whether it is by boat, or funeral pyre is up to you.” Petra said, drawing her sword slowly, allowing the sound of steel on leather to slink out, before twirling the blade in her hand. 

“Bold talk for a little girl outnumbered a dozen to one.” The same square jawed general called, earning a chorus of laughs from the gaggle of cowards around him. Petra let out a sharp, two toned whistle drawing her team to move closer. “Tell them to stop. We have over a dozen archers with their arrows trained on you, and we will tell them to fire if your little warrior whores move any closer.” 

“Then tell them.” Petra said, the crackling of flame filling the air as Petra’s blade lit aflame, the queen praising every god she could name for the lessons her partner had given her in magic. “I enjoy a challenge, and that is something none of you nor your ilk have yet to give us.” Petra heard the straining of a bowstring, and let a single whistle loose, all of hell breaking free with it. 

Pyrois growled from above, dropping down, snapping forward and tearing a man up from the ground in her jaws, shaking him violently from side to side until blood began splattering over the armor of the general and the men that followed him, as well as the front of the building. Petra heard the twang of several bow strings, both in front of her and behind her. Pyrois yet again moved to action, wrapping Petra in her wings and hugging the woman close to her underside as she began rolling to the side. Some arrows were dodged, some striking her armored sides with one or two audibly sinking into the crimson wyvern’s flesh in the regions of her soft underbelly that weren’t covered with her wings. The sharp growl that drew from her mount made Petra even more furious. 

As her mount took back to her feet, unwrapping the leathery protection of her wings from Petra, the queen dropped onto the ground beneath her loyal mount, seeing the general fleeing into the outpost. Many of his ‘men’ tried to run into the woods, but the cowards were felled by the archers of Petra’s team before they even got near the trees. 

“My queen, are you injured?” Alexandra asked, axe already bloody, with a gash running along her bicep. 

“No, Alexandra, I’m in perfect health. Pyrois ensured that.” Petra stood, rubbing the beast’s snout. “Go, my girl, feast and heal while I dispose of this garbage.” Petra saw a pleased huff from the wyvern, as Pyrois took to the air, and Alexandra followed Petra into the building.

“My queen, we should await the rest of the team.” Alexandra advised. 

“They will be joining us soon enough, let us make quick work of these cretins so we may go and check on our fighters in the other outposts.” Petra drew an arrow from the quiver on her hip, holding it by the fletching and sending it zooming down the hall with a wind spell, watching it burrow into a charging deserter’s eye socket. 

“As you wish. Vasily will have my ass on a pike for not awaiting her.” Alexandra mumbled to herself, dropping her stance and charging forward to the trio of armed deserters. She would stop at nothing to ensure they got nowhere near her queen. 

One of the deserters moved to take her legs out from beneath her with the handle of his lance, but as he moved his weapon near her, he felt her hand grasp and handle, spinning on her heel and ripping the tool from his hands, swinging it around and taking her target’s legs out instead, slamming the but of her axe handle into the man’s chest and hearing his sternum crack between her weapon and the ground. She buried her axe head in his throat as his two companions reached them.

The first charged her, and she lobbed her heel into his chest, shoving him back into the wall as she ducked out of the path of his allies blade, smashing her shoulder into the man’s chest and backing up to swing her axe, cleaving clean through one of his legs and sending him to the ground, silent in his shock. 

The remaining Adrestian looked at her in horror, and began to turn to flee. Another blink of an eye and Alexandra leapt forward rushing him, hefting him off of the ground, slamming his head against the wall and hurling him through the window behind him, shattered glass and blunt force killing him quickly. Alexandra rested her hands on her hips, panting lightly as she tried to get her breath back. She was wondering if perhaps her love had been right about her being too old for her role, but she’d be damned if she let such a young queen fight this war while she simply sat aside. After a second, she began chuckling softly to herself as she shook her arms out, bouncing on her feet as she prepared herself for another round of battle, moving to catch up with her majesty. 

“Emil?” Mercedes asked, stepping towards the tall blonde man standing in the corner of the stable, brushing an especially large horse’s dark grey hair as she had walked up behind him, and the moment she spoke, he went still as a statue. “It is you, isn’t it, little brother?” Jeritza removed the brush from the horse, setting in on a small shelf on the side of the stall as he turned to face her. 

“Hello, Mercedes.” Jeritza said, bowing to the older woman as he saw her move closer to him. Mercedes rested a hand on his shoulder, and upon seeing him not recoil at the touch, moved her hand to cup his cheek. 

“It really is you. I had thought that I was hallucinating when I saw you without your mask all those months ago… But my eyes spoke true.” Mercedes wondered, tears welling in her eyes already. She had spent the past six months since she had seen Jeritza outside of Edelgard’s office preparing to speak to him, and yet now everything she had prepared to say had vanished from her mind. 

“It is, yes.” Jeritza said, unphased by the entire subject, or at least seeming to be. 

“I must be the worst sister, to have been around you for so long and yet only recognized you once you stopped wearing a mask.” Mercedes lamented. “You’ve grown… Why did you never come to me? It was almost a year we were on the campus together. I could have had my brother back, all this time.” 

“I have changed in more than just in height and over these years, Mercedes. I… I was unsure if you would rather not see me again after how we parted after mother’s death.” Jeritza said, and for a moment, Emil’s eyes showed fear. Mercedes rested her hand on Emil’s chest, over top of her heart, 

“Emil, nothing in this world nor the shadows that haunt it could make me ever truly wish to not see you. Mother dying was a horrible tragedy, and to have left you behind when I fled the church as lord Bartels came to find you… I left you alone to them. I blame you not for doing whatever you needed to escape.” Jeritza sighed, resting his hand atop his sisters. 

“I did not slay the Bartels for my sake, Mercedes, but yours.” She looked at him, confused. “When Mother took ill, and we took shelter in that church, I knew it was a matter of time before Lord Bartels found us. I had told mother it was foolish to take me along, I had told her to leave me with them, and ensure a safe escape for the both of you, but she was adamant that none in our family would be left behind…” Mercedes saw Emil’s eyes flash away, and something dark sat where he had once been in those empty orbs. “She was a fool. We told her what would happen if we were brought with her, but she did it nonetheless.” And then a shake of his head, and Emil was back, looking ashamed as he spoke on. “When mother passed away, I sent lord Bartels a letter, telling him I would be in the next town over in a week’s time. When the day before that meeting took place came...” Mercedes' eyes went wide. The 6th night after their mother had died, Emil had shaken her from her sleep, stuffing a bag of their possessions into her arms and telling her that the Bartels were there, and they needed to run. They had for what felt like hours, and one point she had turned, and Emil was gone, disappeared from behind her. 

“That town… that is where you…” 

“We had no intention of going back to that damned family!” The Death Knight snapped, another moment and he seemed to take a shuddering breath, and Jeritza stood in his place. “Not after the hell that they put us three through, but I had thought with me there you would be safe. I only left you when I knew you were a short distance from the next church, and then I went to where I had told the Bartels to meet me, the next town in the complete opposite direction. When I met him, he assured me you would be left be…” the light drained from Emil’s eyes. “Had they kept their squalid mouths shut they might have lived to see their manor again, but their loose lips spelled their own downfall, the insipid bastards.” The Death Knight muttered to himself. “We found out a matter of hours later that Bartels was still intent on pursuing you. We learned of his intent to marry you, and neither of us would abide it. I killed them like the heartless dogs they were, and ensured that at least from them, we could have peace… you could have peace.” This time it seemed to take a moment for Emil to pull himself back together, but eventually he took a slow, shuddering breath and Mercedes saw her brother stood there before her again. She felt her tears spilling over as she looked up at him. 

“But you never came back.” Mercedes whimpered, pulling her hand from Jeritza’s chest, and out of his own grasp. “I spent so long waiting for you in that church, waiting for you to come back, to find me, or write to me, anything. Even after I heard of what had happened to the Bartels, I waited… but you never came, no letter ever came, you left me alone. I spent so long ashamed of having lost you, abandoned you, and then you mean to tell me you in fact abandoned me? ” Mercedes whispered. 

“Mercedes…” 

“No. I… I need to go. I can’t…” Mercedes fled from the stable, leaving Emil stood, confounded as to what he could say. He shook his head, moving to find her, to try and say something, when he heard a knight call to him. 

“Sir Jeritza, Lord Arundel has been attacked while in a meeting with the emperor!” Jeritza looked to the knight, stone faced as ever, and grabbed his scythe, moving to follow. 

“Lead the way.”

“Come now, General, surely such a proud traitor as yourself isn’t afraid of some ‘young lady’.” Petra called, following the sound of fleeing footsteps up a stairwell and down another hall. Finally, she saw the hallway fill with light as a door opened at the end of it. She pulled another arrow from her quiver, launching it with a wind spell toward the doorway. 

“Damn!” she heard the general call, which meant she hit him, but sadly nowhere fatal. She tried to run even faster, bursting through the same door, only to see the general stood by the edge of the roof, a large stack of wood and leaves beside him. He held a bottle of what appeared to be Adrestian liquor in his hand, a small length of cloth wrapped around the end of the bottle and burning. “Damnit, girl, you’ve become a serious pain in my ass! Don’t move a step closer, or reach for another one of those arrows of yours, or i’ll send you up in flames!” Petra looked at the man, his hand shaking as he held the burning bottle, his feet mere inches from the edge of the roof, with an arrow, Petra’s arrow, visibly jutting from his calf. 

“Bold, or foolish, to assume you can move quicker than I, General. I’d highly recommend you consider the benefits of surrender.” Petra held her blade in her hand, sending flame down the length of the sword. 

“Ha! Surely you think me a fool, to surrender to you brutes and let you simply slaughter me on my knees. I’ll die standing!” The General cheered, hurling the bottle at the stack of wood, engulfing it in flames before moving to draw his sword. Before the steel could even clear leather, however, Petra was upon him, burying the blade to the handle into his chest. She stumbled a bit as he fell back, and she nearly followed him over the edge of the roof. She did just barely manage to stay atop the building, however, as she saw the dead general’s corpse bounce off of the firm dirt below. It was almost comical. 

“My queen…” Alexandra called, panting from the doorway. “Gods have mercy, too many damned stairs… My queen, are you ok?” Petra chuckled, hands resting on her knees as she felt her heart trying to beat out of her chest. 

“I am alive and well, Alexandra. Quiet yourself and do not collapse on my behalf just yet.” Petra called back in Brigian. “When you have collected your breath, go find a few of our team and find whatever water you can to put this out.” Petra indicated the fire, which was now sending heavy plumes of thick black smoke into the air. 

“Gladly, my queen.” Alexandra said, taking a deep breath as she moved to go back to the stairs. 

“Lord Arundel,” Edelgard said, walking alongside Hubert and her ‘beloved’ uncle as he marched throughout the courtyards and pathways of Garreg Mach, having arrived unannounced about an hour prior. “I do not mean to be rude, but I am curious as to what made you decide to come for a surprise visit.” Edelgard prodded, as they were marching up the path toward the stable. 

“Ah, my dearest niece,” Arundel began, the voice he used as he said the title made Edelgard’s skin crawl. “I have simply thought it might be fruitful to come, inspect how things are coming along as the war carries on. Over a year now, is it not?” Arundel asked, as if he didn’t already know to the day how long their little plot had been going on. 

“Sir, I wonder if you have not been receiving my reports these past several months. I have worked to ensure you and your...allies are kept well informed on the status of the war effort.” Hubert said, walking the fine line between assertive and professional. Arundel saw it as a challenge, intent regardless, and glowered at the young man before him. 

“Oh please, boy, my allies are your allies, are they not? But I have seen the reports, yes, however your details are sloppy, your summaries slapdash, and your organizing is abysmal. I had no choice but to come and see for myself, to ensure the war effort was in, let us say, good hands.” Arundel said curtly, the implication of what might happen if it were not in ‘good hands’ being rather clear. 

“I assure you, Lord Arundel, we have done everything possible to make it certain that the war will be won as soon as possible.” Edelgard held her hands clasped behind her back, presenting an air of pride and self assurance where she felt neither. 

“I’m certain you believe that.” Arundel said, dismissing her claim with less than even a wave of the hand. “But, I have not gotten to where I am by merely trusting the good intentions of others. I simply wish to assure that all of our arrangements are still… in order.” Edelgard and Hubert both looked to the other, realizing in an instant what was going on. 

This ‘visit’ wasn’t about the war effort at all. Arundel was looking to make sure that they remained loyal to their ‘arrangement’, that they had no intentions of challenging Those Who Slither when all was finished with the church. They both tried to find a good way to assure him of the obvious lie, the knowing glare of Arundel’s leaving them both feeling like children clutching daggers behind their backs praying their parents wouldn’t ask what they were holding. That was about when it seemed the goddess herself wished misery upon them. 

Ferdinand ran up, waving them down and stopping them right at the intersection of the path from what was the noble dormitory and the path leading out of the greenhouse. 

“Hubert, dear, I need to speak with you and Edelgard. There were some questions that came up in yesterday’s meeting for the Strike Force, and I want to get everything sorted for today’s…” Ferdinand looked up from the small ream of note cards he had marked with the questions to see both Hubert and Edelgard glaring daggers at him, as if praying that he might vanish into thin air on the spot. 

“Ferdinand, this is an important discussion, and a rather inopportune time. Can we please,” Hubert emphasized the please with as much force as he could without seeming like he was in the middle of a yelling fit. “Come back when we are done giving Lord Arundel a...tour of the Monastery.” Ferdinand nodded, quickly turning and all-but-running away. No one seemed to notice the slight crack in the door of the greenhouse, nor did they notice the blonde woman trying not to be seen listening through said crack after hearing Hubert’s ‘mad’ voice. 

“Hmmmm, ‘Strike Force’? Dearest niece, I do seem to be growing rather forgetful in my old age.” Catherine felt a familiar fear creep over her. “I don’t seem to remember you telling me about any ‘strike force’. I hate to be a bother, but do enlighten me again.” Catherine felt as if her skin was being flayed off of her just hearing the man speak. Edelgard, on the other hand, didn’t even notice the extra level of malice in Thales’ voice, having become so accustomed to it. 

“It is nothing of much importance. Just a small unit made up of some former classmates of mine from the days here at the Academy.” Edelgard said, her cool tone unwavering. 

“Ah, I see. You ought to change the name then. For you see, ‘Strike Force’ has much heavier implications, Flame Emperor.” Edelgard felt her jaw clench at that name, and even she noticed as Arundel grew more and more viscous, all the while never growing a modicum louder. “Implications of a...personal nature. A personal unit, devoted to a leader’s own ambitions and goals.” Arundel said, stepping closer and glowering over the woman as he whispered. “One could be forgiven for thinking such a unit might indicate more… personal goals as opposed to a unified vision.”

“If I may, Lord Arundel Sir.” Hubert said, his own poker face holding solid, even if it was less practiced then Edelgard’s. “Those seem like rather precise inferences to make from such an informal title.” 

“Hmmm, I don’t believe I asked you, now did I boy?” Arundel did not want an answer to that question, his voice made that clear. Yet Hubert gave one anyway. Perhaps that is why everything turned out the way it did. 

“You seemed to be making rather heavy assertions toward Lady Edelgard’s intent. I felt that was an opening for reassurance that it is nothing of the sort. Simply a fancier title to ensure a few nobles feel important and ensure their families do the same. It is a means of simply ensuring their loyalty.” Hubert asserted. Arundel looked at him, and a conniving grin drew across his face, his teeth just a bit too sharp to be human. 

“Perhaps you are correct, young mister Hubert. I can see my… misunderstanding.” Arundel stepped back from Edelgard, and three of the four people involved in this conversation, one of whom was merely an uninvited listener, took a deep breath of relief, however Edelgard’s was a bit shallower. That had been too easy. “Now, I intend to stay for the evening and leave in the morning. I will be needing a chamber, and I do hope it is no bother,” Arundel’s voice made it clear he cared not if whatever he was about to say bothered them, it would be done. “I will be needing some...company, for the evening as well.” 

Hubert tried to hold back a sigh. It was not the first time a request of this nature was made. There seemed to always be some sick joy in the man’s eye, sending Hubert out to retrieve him some ‘entertainment’ knowing full well Hubert was about as interested in women as in the finer aspects of having his teeth ripped out. Every time, the women would always say the same thing. He never did a thing to them. They would simply sit, have what each one referred to as a ‘highly unnerving’ conversation, and then he sent them away. It was unusual for Arundel to pass up an opportunity to torture, and it had always been Hubert’s assumption that the idea of being, to put it bluntly, forced to hire these women knowing what they might be sending them into was meant to be torture for himself and Edelgard, and that was the only reason they were seemingly spared. 

“I shall ensure your ‘company’ is retrieved from the city later this afternoon, Lord Arundel sir.” Arundel chuckled at this, a vicious, mocking thing that made the spines of every person listening crawl, and Catherine found herself clutching the handle of her shovel tight to her chest like a safety blanket. It sounded so familiar.

“Oh you are kind to offer, boy, but I believe I have saved you the effort and found someone myself.” Arundel said, making Hubert’s veins go ice cold. His mouth went dry as he prayed to a goddess he did not believe in to make it so he was wrong with his guess as to what would follow. “Ensure that young man… Ferdinand, was it?” Arundel leaned in, almost begging Hubert to challenge him. Hubert nodded, knowing if he opened his mouth to speak he would likely spit in the man’s eye and try to rip his throat out with his own teeth before answering. “Ah, glad I caught it the first time. Ensure Ferdinand is sent to my quarters following dinner this evening.” Edelgard’s fist popped as she clenched it, gaining Thales’ attention. 

“Lord Arundel, I don’t think Ferdinand is the type of… ‘company’, that you seem to enjoy. I might recommend allowing Hubert to retrieve you a companion instead.” 

Catherine grit her teeth to the point she was amazed none cracked in her mouth. How could they be so calm about this? Even trying to dissuade the man, they should be giving him a blatant ‘no and die for asking’. Catherine tried to hold her rage back, but something in her burned like nothing she’d ever felt before. She’d felt rage, it was more kin to her than any blood family she had left, but that was nothing compared to what tore at her and wore away her sense at that moment. She prayed that Edelgard and Hubert could talk him to sense, because she wouldn’t allow this man to get anywhere near Ferdinand. She’d die before she allowed anything to happen to one of the few people who stood beside her through it all without a moment’s doubt. 

Catherine took another breath, trying to calm herself. 

“Oh, but dear niece.” Arundel’s voice betrayed the fact he was both aware of and reveling in their fear. “That is exactly why he will be accompanying me tonight. I find the best fun comes from companions you get to ‘convince’. I am beyond bored of your retrieving my company, there’s no sport in it.” Arundel laughed quietly as he felt the murderous rage pouring from Hubert’s direction. He knew the lot of them wouldn’t make any sort of move, and truth be told he had no interest in any sort of interaction with that boy, but he needed to remind them that he was the one in charge. He was the one they answered to. Oh, but the fun that he could revel in as he tortured Flame Emperor’s right hand man was too sweet to pass up. Even when he knew he’d do nothing to Ferdinand, he knew just the way to ensure that Hubert would be driven mad no matter the reassurance. “Do not worry, boy.” He began to say to Hubert. “I will ensure your little friend has no grudges against you afterward. It is astounding what one with a bit of magic and herbs can do to another’s memory.” Arundel chuckled and turned to Edelgard, making an offhand comment he never got to finish. “ I think you can attest to...” 

A creek of door hinges, the scuffle of rushed, poorly planned footsteps, and everyone around heard the clang of iron against Arundel’s skull, sending the man to the ground as Edelgard and Hubert looked at an absolutely wild-eyed Catherine, a shovel clenched like a lance as she followed the swing through, already winding up a second strike as a duo of guards were charging toward them all. Arundel was trying to stand when the shovel connected, ringing out again as it sent him back to the ground in a heap. Catherine readied for a third, only to be tackled to the ground and dragged up by the guards, not any sort from the Empire. No, these were Arundel’s personal guards. 

“I’ll fucking gut you you son of a bitch!” Catherine screamed, tearing an arm loose and clocking one of the guards across the jaw, drawing an inhumane hiss from it. She took the free arm and tried to pick up the discarded tool, only to feel the limb get recaptured, shortly before a pair of strikes to her stomach sent her to her knees, winded and unable to stand. 

Edelgard and Catherine’s eyes met for a second as Arundel was crawling back to his feet. Edelgard’s seemed to beg Catherine’s to know why, why had she done it. Catherine’s, in response, seemed almost accusatory, as if she were saying she did it only because Edelgard didn’t. Arundel reached out to grab Catherine by the jaw, barely dodging out of the way as the woman’s teeth tried to tear into one of his fingers, more likely than not removing it had she succeeded. But, he gained his grasp on her jaw, making her look up at him, a black flame burning in the palm of his hand. 

“I don’t know who you are, you feral little mutt, but I do hope that little stunt was worth your life.” Arundel taunted. 

“Fuck you.” Catherine muttered through grit teeth. 

She had always had a strange feeling those would be her last words, but she didn’t expect them at this point in her life. Later? Yes. Earlier? Absolutely. Now, now was just bad luck. The sick bastard chuckled, lifting her head higher, looking as if he were examining her. 

“Hmmm, that is rather tempting…” Arundel muttered, reveling in the flash of fear he brought across his captive’s eyes. Catherine ripped her head back, moving it forward again and soon her teeth sunk deep into flesh, and a thick black sludge dumped into her mouth, making her cough and spit at the almost sickly sweet flavor. That wasn’t blood. What the hell was this guy? She felt his boot in her stomach, nearly puking as another one slammed right back into her gut. “Damned dog.” Arundel said, hefting his hand back, flames consuming a fair portion of his hand and forearm, ready to hurl at the struggling woman only for something to grasp his wrist mid swing. 

“Lord Arundel, I would beseech you to not murder my hostages when you claim to be concerned with the status of the war effort.” Edelgard said, a gauntlet-clad hand clutching the taller man’s arm, seemingly not noticing the fire still consuming the limb. He looked at her as if he were intent to kill her too, so she fed the first lie she could think of. “This woman is the first daughter of House Charon in the Holy Kingdom of Faergus. Her family is negotiating for her return as we speak, and there is a strong chance that if she is turned over, alive, then her family may cede their territory willingly. How she escaped her cell and gained access to a weapon, I know not, but I will implore you not to risk potentially losing us land and an ally over the petty escape attempts of a hostage.” 

Arundel looked at her, and he almost seemed impressed, as if he felt some twisted sense of pride in the seeming lack of care for the woman’s life on any basis but what it could gain her. Arundel looked back at Catherine, but she was in all honesty not quite capable of actually making any sentences more complex than ‘I’ll fucking kill you’ at the moment, so she remained quiet. Arundel looked as if he had noticed something about her, looking at her face, her jaw, and then seeming to take in the rest of her. He laughed, and then straightened himself, now almost unnaturally tall as he grew that same vile grin as before. 

“Ah, I see. And here I thought you had simply hired some cheap excuse for an assassin to attempt to remove your dear uncle from your family tree.” Arundel said, as if it gave him an idea. “Let that thing go.” Arundel said, gesturing to Catherine. The two guards seemed to hesitate. “Now!” They dropped Catherine, who fell to the ground. 

“I will ensure she is escorted to her cell and properly contained, dear uncle.” Edelgard said. 

“Oh, there’s no need.” Arundel said, as if he were the most forgiving man in the world. He turned to Catherine, gesturing off down the path like a master sending his dog away. “Go on, sir, take yourself back to your room.” Arundel ordered. Catherine stood, about ready to clock the bastard again and see if she could snap his neck before the guards got to her again, but as she got up her eyes met Edelgard’s, something in that twisting ocean of violet made her pause. She tried her best to swallow her pride, moving around the path, walking slowly toward her dormitory. “Flame Emperor, I do hope there is one thing you take from this whole experience. The one skill that is most important in life…” Arundel’s grin grew even wider, exposing too many teeth. “Is to be able to learn, even from others' failures.” 

Arundel left his back facing Catherine as he lifted his hand, still engulfed in flame, and snapped. Suddenly, there was no flame at all, and his hand seemed completely untouched. A second later there was a loud explosion, and the whoosh of growing flames in the distance, followed by the muffled yell of Catherine as a fireball of black flame seemed to appear from nowhere, tearing into her shoulder. She nearly fell to the ground, but instead she ran, stumbling her way as far from the damned creature as she could, her face still smeared in black blood. Arundel beaconed his guards to follow him as he left the two alone. When Jeritza approached, Arundel paid him no mind. 

“Hubert…” Edelgard said quietly as Arundel was just out of earshot, reaching out and resting a hand on her brother’s shoulder. 

“Lady Edelgard, I do not believe it is me you need to be checking on.” Hubert said, straightening his jacket and retrieving the shovel from the ground, throwing it into the greenhouse and closing the door. He moved back to Edelgard’s side, his breathing coming in slow, deep, controlled breaths that disclosed a barely repressed rage. “Please, inform me if there is any need of me to retrieve Lady Manuela. I shall leave you to your ‘hostage’, as I must go ensure my partner is safe behind as many locked doors and armed strike force members as possible. ” It was not a request, as Hubert moved up the path, barely making it three steps before pausing. “And please, tell Lady Catherine that she has my utmost gratitude. To put it in a way she might find more appealing; ‘I owe her a drink.’ Sir Jeritza, I have need of you, come along.” Jeritza looked to Edelgard, and with a nod from her in approval he followed Hubert as he went on his way. 

Edelgard stood, at a loss for words as she tried to parse exactly how so many things went so wrong in such a short period of time. A small part of her was thankful that Catherine had stepped in, intervened and seemed to divert Arundel’s attention, but another part felt a bit sick at the fact she had had to do that to begin with. Edelgard flashed back to that glare, the accusation in Catherine’s eyes when she was dragged away from Arundel by his guards. The sheer rage, directed at her specifically, made Edelgard’s stomach turn. She had come to terms with being hated by many for her actions in this war, but there was some assurance in the fact that they were her enemies, the members of the class and church she intended to destroy. But that glare had come from Catherine, an ally, a friend, a...

She shook her head, realizing that she had more pressing matters to attend to, and quickly moved to follow where Catherine had ran off to. 

Marianne sat in the training grounds, sweat dripping down her forehead as she tried to catch her breath. 

“I think this might be a good place to end our training for the evening, Lady Marianne.” Flayn said, bouncing on her toes as she stood, looking slightly uncomfortable. 

“I suppose.” Marianne said, disappointed. She wasn’t upset with the training, it had been quite a few hours of work by that point. No, she was upset more with her own failure. The entire time they had been practicing, Marianne couldn’t even summon a single nosferatu blast. They had spent the entire afternoon trying to work up to it, but it just never seemed to work as it was supposed to. 

“Don’t get discouraged, Marianne.” Flayn reassured, sitting beside the girl. “I’m sure it’ll work out eventually. Just work hard, and take care of yourself. Sometimes skills take longer to sink in if you’re not used to them. Just know I believe in you. If Mercedes were here, she’d probably be a much better teacher than me.” 

“Thank you…” Marianne said, smiling at the taller woman. “I think I might stay here a little while longer, cool down just a bit.” 

“I can stay with you, if you’d like.” Flayn offered. 

“No, I think I might prefer to be alone.” Marianne replied. Flayn bid her adieu, and moved toward the Monastery, leaving Marianne to sulk in her own failure. 

She ought to have known better, seeing as how much of her life was left in utter chaos and destruction. What possibility did she ever have at making something like healing work for her. Her crest ensured there was one thing she was skilled at, and that was destruction. Raw, unrepentant destruction. She knew she shouldn’t think like this. She was making progress through her time in the greenhouse, but what good was progress when in comparison to her shortcomings it was so insignificant? 

Her thoughts found themselves interrupted by the flap of heavy wings and the beating of horse hooves on the soft earth. As Marianne looked up from her position on the ground, she saw a large, scarred green wyvern land several yards away, while a horse pulled up beside it. A moment later, Ashe and Leonie both dismounted from their perspective animals. 

“Hey, Marianne! Didn’t know you were going to be here. We saw Flayn walking back to the campus and thought that the training ground was open. Do you need a little bit more time?” Leonie called, leaning on her lance as Ashe dug through a large saddlebag on Seteth, pulling out her axe. 

“N. No!” Marianne said, hurriedly standing. “I’ll be leaving. I’m sorry to be a bother.” Marianne said, moving to walk back to the school.

“Hey, it’s no bother to us.” Leonie assured. “You’re more than welcome to join us if you’d like.” Marianne was about to mutter a hurried, but polite, refusal to the offer when the sound of Seteth’s monstrous nostrils inhaling deeply filled the air. In an instant, the beast was growling deep in its throat, eyes fixed on Marianne. In a flash of green scales, Seteth charged toward the girl, teeth bared and ready to strike. Marianne put her hands up, praying to the goddess that her death at least be painless, when a heavy thud and a shout filled her ears. 

“Seteth,heel!” Ashe called, and when Marianne peaked past her hands, she saw the woman standing in front of her, arms stretched out to her side as if she intended to stop the wyvern with her bare hands. “Sit, now!” On cue, the wyvern’s back legs dropped, and it's butt hit the dirt with a loud thud. “Bad girl!” Ashe yelled, reaching up and smacking the massive beast on the tip of her snout, drawing a murmured whimper from the base of Seteth’s throat. “Don’t you start whining now! You know exactly what you did! Go, time out, now!” A grumble from the massive beast, and it sulked off back beside Leonie and her horse. With that, Ashe turned and faced her, sweat beading on her brow. “Hey, listen, I’m so so sorry for her, I swear she never does that sort of thing unless she’s hunting beasts. I know she looks scary, but that big old bitch is nothing more than a giant scaly puppy, I swear.” Ashe tried to reassure Marianne, but she had stopped listening as a single word reverberated in her mind. ‘Beasts’. 

“I… It’s fine. I should have just left when I was finished and not been a burden to any of you. Please, accept my apologies, and don’t let me ruin the rest of your evening.” Marianne turned to leave, but felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, looking to see Ashe having stepped a bit closer. 

“Hey, don’t worry, nothing’s ruined. Everything’s ok. You don’t gotta go running off for our sake. I mean, we’re a team, right?” Ashe tried to reassure her. “Listen, I get it if you don’t want to, but it would probably be a good idea to let Seteth sniff you, so she knows to associate your scent with a friend, not a foe. Just in case we ever need to fight together on the same mission. If you want to just leave after, I totally understand, but could we get that taken care of while you’re here?” 

“I suppose…” Marianne said quietly. 

“Thank you. I really am so sorry for her.” Ashe turned back, Seteth now curled into herself on the ground beside Leonie. “Seteth, Come here girl!” the wyvern didn’t move. “Now don’t you go pouting! I swear to the goddess, no treats for a week if you don’t get your scaley ass back over here!” That seemed to light a fire under the wyvern, and in an instant she was up, slinking over to the duo. Ashe turned back to Marianne. “Would it be ok if I took your hand?” Ashe asked, offering her own hand out to the nervous girl in blue. 

“Watch it, there, lovergirl.” Leonie teased, leaning against her horse as she watched the awkward display. 

“Babydoll, not right now, please?” Ashe asked, turning to see a wink from Leonie that she just prayed was an acquiescence. She felt a weight in her hand, and when she looked Marianne had rested a hand in hers. It was funny just how much smaller Marianne’s hand was in comparison to her own, but Ashe figured the heavy leather gloves she wore to protect her from leather burns on Seteth’s saddle probably had an effect on that difference. “Ok, I’m going to slowly guide your hand to her nose, and she’ll sniff you, and then she should take a minute, and then she shouldn’t be a bother to you again. And she’s not going to try any funny business. Right, big girl?” Ashe asked, glaring at the massive lizard, who huffed as if she were offended by the very thought of causing trouble. 

Ashe took a moment and guided Marianne’s hand inch by inch up to Seteth’s snout, until her fingers were centimeters away from the opening of the wyvern’s nasal slits, although Marianne was much more focused on the massive jaw inches below those. Seteth took a sniff, and then another, and then a third and fourth as she seemed to be confused at first. But, soon enough, Marianne saw the muscles in the mount’s shoulders visibly relax, as Seteth leaned down, bowing her head to Marianne. 

“She wants you to pet her. It’s not a necessity, but it definitely helps.” Ashe whispered to Marianne, who, feeling a bit bolder than she was moments ago, leaned down and ran her hand along the scales of Seteth’s green snout, moving slowly up until she was rubbing between her eyes, an audible purr coming from the massive creature’s throat. “Haha, she likes you.” Ashe commented, hands on her hips as she wiped a few loose strands of silver hair back, those strands having escaped the long loose braid Ashe always wore, and for a moment Marianne had the strangest feeling of Deja Vu. I was a while before she realized she was staring at Ashe. 

“She’s very pretty.” Marianne said, brushing her fingers along Seteth’s brow, tracing the edge of a scar that ran across the wyvern’s eye. “So many wounds…” 

“Yeah, she’s seen her share of fights, but she’s wonderful, and I wouldn’t trade her for the whole damn world.” Ashe pet the other side of Seteth’s head. “She’s like family.” A few seconds passed before Marianne pulled her hand away, and Ashe did the same. Seteth ceased purring and lifted her head, shaking it slightly before moving closer and dragging her tongue along Marianne’s cheek. “Seteth! Bad girl! We don’t lick random women!” Ashe shouted, waving the wyvern off. Before Ashe turned back to Marianne, Leonie was already standing in front of her, a dry towel in hand. 

“Here, it's a sweat towel but it’s clean.” Leonie offered. Marianne took the towel, wiping at some of the spit and moving to hand it back. “You missed a spot. No, not… no the other… Oh, for the goddess’s sake, come here.” Leonie said, leaning in and hooking a finger under Marianne’s chin, turning her head slightly away and patting the towel along the side of Marianne’s face. “There you go. You missed like, half of the spit.” Leonie commented as she released Marianne’s chin and slung the towel over her shoulder. She looked at Marianne and noticed the several violent shades of red on the pale woman’s cheeks. She looked confused for a minute, before realization slowly crossed her eyes, and she slapped herself in the forehead. “Shit, Or, uh, darn. I’m so sorry, Marianne. I should have asked before doing that.” 

“I… It’s fine, I just am unused to people…” Marianne tried to find a better way to say ‘not flinching away from my very presence’. 

“No, no, really that was my mistake. I uh, me and Ashe spend most of our time out in the field now-a-days, so I guess we’ve kind of forgotten that everyone isn’t as comfortable with stuff like that as we tend to be.” Leonie chuckled, scratching at the back of her head as she tried not to show how embarrassed she was. Yet again, after all these years, she failed to think before she acted and landed herself in some bullshit.

“And you told me to watch it.” Ashe muttered under her breath as she walked up, Seteth left behind several feet back. “Sorry for all of this, Marianne. I hope we didn’t screw up your day too badly.” 

“Oh, no, it’s not a problem, really.” Marianne said. “If anything I guess I should be the one apologizing. I’ve wasted so much of your time that could be spent training.” 

“Hey, it’s not that big of a deal for us. Ashe should’ve kept her lizard in check better.” Leonie teased, smacking her partner on the shoulder. “The offer still stands if you’d like to join us.” Leonie held up her lance as if to emphasize the offer. 

“I promise, Seteth will stay calm, and respectful distance away. Leonie will too.” Ashe reassured. 

“Zip it, sugartits.” Leonie said, and Marianne giggled at the dramatic eye roll Ashe did in response. 

“I… I’ve never really fought with a lance before.” Marianne admitted. 

“Well, I’m sure Leonie could teach you. Or I could if you wanted to know about axes.” Ashe patted the wooden axe hanging off her hip. 

“I… I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” 

“Well that’s good, cus you aren’t being one, and I’d hate to have to be the one to tell you you’re doing a bad job at something like that.” Leonie said, spinning her lance between her fingers like a baton. “Come on, we’re burning daylight.” 

“O… ok.” Marianne said, following Ashe and Leonie as they marched toward the sparring grounds, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. 

The door to Catherine’s dormitory was ajar as Edelgard approached it. Even from the doorway, the sound of quiet mumbling could be heard. It sounded like it was coming from the other side of the room, and before Edelgard could knock, she noticed something in between the breaths that caught her in place. 

“She’s not here, I’m safe. She’s not here, I’m safe.” It was the grunt of pain that made Edelgard step through the door without even thinking to knock. 

“Catherine, are you ok?” Edelgard was so busy kicking herself for such a foolish question that she barely caught the almost unnatural speed with which Catherine’s head shot up, sat at the foot of the bed, back to her, her hand clutching at her shoulder that had been burned. It took Edelgard a moment to realize that the wounds on her seemed almost entirely healed, scarred over entirely. There were only a few seemingly still bleeding spots. 

“Please… just go.” Catherine muttered weakly. Edelgard didn’t move however, as her eyes were drawn only a few inches down. 

Catherine’s shirt had been scorched by the flames, left ragged and torn and singed to the point that she might as well have not been wearing one. The sight that caught Edelgard’s eye wasn’t simply the woman's back, no, it was the horrifying meshwork of scars that seemed to knit across Catherine as far as Edelgard could see. Long, thin, neat lines that showed remnants of deep, clean slices into the skin. They were wider than the scars that traced across her own skin, but so much else revealed them to be horrifyingly similar. 

“Draw it, it’ll fucking last longer.” Catherine spat as she almost seemed to lose steam, her shoulders slumping down as she pulled in a deep breath, her arms wrapping around herself, hands clutching at her core. “I’m sorry… I’m trying to be better about that.”

“Catherine, what happened to you?” Edelgard asked, seeming to almost forget herself as she walked closer, the weak and shaking form before her seeming to be the farthest thing from the brash and confident knight she’d known. Whatever could have done this to her?

“What happened?!” Catherine shot up, turning and staring Edelgard down. “Your psychotic fucking house guest nearly burned me alive! With something nasty, too.” Catherine gestured to her shoulder. “It healed itself, but at the cost of ensuring it left every mark it could instead of letting me get them healed at the medbay. Guess that sends a pretty clear message, huh?” Edelgard swallowed. She knew the message being sent well, it was a common one for Arundel. ‘I won’t kill you, but never forget that I could’. 

“I’m sorry, Catherine.” Edelgard said,trying to look into the woman’s eyes, but Catherine turned away, walking farther into the room. 

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” Catherine said. 

“What in the hell were you thinking?” Edelgard asked, looking at the still-bared woman’s back. 

“I could ask you the same exact goddess-damned thing.” Catherine said, that same, almost hateful glare burning in its accusations pierced through Edelgard like an arrow. “I was trying to do what a good friend is supposed to do. I was trying to protect Ferdinand, since you clearly were doing a piss poor job of it!” 

“I was doing the best I could.” Edelgard said, through grit teeth. 

“The fuck you were! You were dancing around that scum. What in the hell kind of allies do you have in this war if that sick pig is one of them?” Edelgard clenched her fist, not sure if she hated Catherine or the fact she was closer to right than she should be more. 

“I was protecting him in the ways I could.” Edelgard said, quietly. 

“Second verse, same as the first, Edelgard. The. Fuck. You. Were.” Catherine said, that last four words each accentuated by a step until Catherine was less than a foot from Edelgard. “Had you and Hubert actually helped me, I could have killed the sick fuck before his gaurds ever got to me. You were sitting there, bartering with the man debating if it was Ferdinand or some poor girl from the fucking village that would be his plaything for the night. You should have told him to go fuck himself and then had him hung by the neck!” At that, Edelgard snapped. 

“Do you think I did not want to?! Do you think me so callous that I was not overwhelmed with the urge to kill that monster where it stood!?” 

“Then why the hell didn’t you?!” 

“I didn’t have a choice! I don’t have a choice! I never have!” Edelgard said, her facade cracking under the pressure of Catherine’s glare. At that, however, Edelgard watched something in Catherine break as well, and that hate turned into a sort of twisted fear, not of Edelgard, but for her. 

“Edelgard, who is that man? Why are you so afraid?”

There was a part of Edelgard that wanted to scream that she wasn’t afraid. To deny that very fear that she knew had kept her alive this long, just as she had with Byleth. But that hadn’t worked then, and Edelgard knew it likely wouldn’t work now. What was the alternative? That Catherine would think her so callous as to just barter with Ferdinand like that? Something, there in the heart of that moment, just seemed to shatter in the walls that Edelgard had built around her past since she had opened it to Byleth. 

“He’s a monster.” Edelgard said, reaching down and removing her glove, noticing Catherine’s eyes fall onto the lines of scar tissue on the bare skin. Edelgard’s voice seemed to drain of all emotion in a way that Catherine realized was a bit too familiar. She wanted to try and do something, but all she could think was to reach out, and yet she still felt so petrified at the idea. “Not just a vile person, but an actual, living, breathing monster. When I was a child, he led a coup along with the nobles of the Empire. It led to the dissolution of many of the areas of power in the throne.” 

“The rebellion of the seven… I know of it.” Catherine said, crossing her arms, chewing on her cheek. 

Everyone who was involved with church politics had known of the coup. Catherine had only been a teenager when it happened, but her father’s devotion to the church ensured she heard plenty about it. The Empire had been making moves to pull away from the church and enforce more stringent control of the practices within its borders. The Seven as they came to be known, were not friendly to the church, but had been much more passive in church affairs. 

“Well, what I’m sure you didn’t know, is what my family faced following it. We children were dragged to the dungeon of our own home, made prisoners in the place we had grown, and experimented on until we all were either broken, dead or dying.” Catherine’s eyes went wide. Why had she left such emphasis on that last one? 

“... Which are you?” 

“I…” Even when she let her walls down, Edelgard knew some things were just too sore of a subject to confess. “I was the only survivor of those days. With my survival, the empire was given an heir, and my uncle, a pawn. He has held his fingers around my throat since I was a girl.” Edelgard crossed her arms, and Catherine started to feel sickened.

“So this war…” 

“It is mine, do not mistake. I have not set so much of my life to this only on his command. He may have been the one to lead the coup, but he only could because of the crest system the church has upheld for centuries. He is, at the moment, an enemy of an enemy, but he is still my foe nonetheless. He has power. not just in magic, but an entire army that he ‘gifts’ to us, but only so that his troops may be prepared to slaughter our own if given the order. We are, at every moment, dancing along the tightrope he has laid out for us. My only hope is to unite fodlan, and then take the armies of the three nations as one grand force to drive through his heart. Followed swiftly by my axe.” Edelgard said, fist clenching with unbridled determination. 

“I’m… I’m sorry.” 

“I did not tell you this for your pity, Catherine. I told you this so you will understand that I was not bartering for my victory, but trying my best to keep my friend safe while knowing I could be risking all of our lives. I would never allow Arundel to touch Ferdinand, and neither would Hubert. In fact, having seen how he was fairing, I’m rather certain if you had not done what you did, he would have done something similar. Thales takes personal slights from those he thinks should fear him as even more demanding of punishment than even attempts on his own life by strangers, it seems. You might have saved his life. Thank you for that. But it doesn’t make your actions any less foolish or reckless.” 

“You act like that’s out of pattern for me.” Catherine muttered. 

“It is. You’re stubborn, hotheaded and brash, but you’re not an idiot, Catherine. I’ve seen you find a route to victory no one else could think up in the midst of utter chaos, you’re good at it. But that, that choice you made, was foolish even if it didn’t kill you. I mean, attacking a noble with a shovel with guards in plain view? For the love of the goddess, woman, do you want to die?” Catherine didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. She held Edelgard’s gaze for a moment, lips pulled in a tight frown until finally she couldn’t seem to stand it any longer. She looked down, away from Edelgard as shame hit her like a tidal wave. “Catherine… What happened to you?” 

She didn’t want to talk about it. Not to Edelgard. How would she see her? She didn’t even want to think about it. And she wouldn’t, if it didn’t make itself a low, constant buzz in the back of her mind, even if lately, there had been days where it almost felt like she could pretend it was gone entirely. But Edelgard had just bared her own story, so it was only fair that Catherine return the gesture, wasn’t it? She was so tired of hiding it, she was just so fucking tired. 

She took a deep breath, crossing her arms. 

“You’re not the only one who’s been the puppet for a monster.” 

“That night, the first night of this war… you told me you didn’t have a choice, either. Is that…” Edelgard gestured to her back, as if asking if the scars were related. Catherine ran her fingers through her hair, hating how the action felt with her hair so short, so ragged and full of dirt and ashes and char. But, finally, she nodded. 

“Lady Rh…” Catherine took a moment, composure collapsing as she drew in a weak gasping breath, her cheeks and eyes getting red and puffy as she fought the instilled pattern. “Rhea has some kind of power. Flayn said it’s something to do with her being ancient, something to do with her blood. But she… She can control people. Make them think, feel, remember and… do whatever she wants.” Edelgard heard a worrying implication in the way that was said. “Flayn has been trying to help me...work through it all. That day in the catacombs… I wasn’t going to stay with her, with the church.” Edelgard heard so much shame and grief at the admission, and Catherine took a moment before continuing on. “ I just couldn’t, not after she told Byleth to kill you, right there. I wanted to say no, to stand up to her. I tried to, Princess, I swear I tried to, but she just had to touch me and I was done for. I was her puppet, no matter how much I fought it, or tried to tell you, or to beg for help…” 

“... ‘I can’t’...” Edelgard whispered to herself, realizing with a dawning horror what she had been trying to say.

“Yeah… After that, when you all escaped, that’s when Joe and Freddy tried to chase after you. I couldn’t move. Once you were too far out, I guess it just… didn’t register to keep following you. So they said they’d get you, try and get you to come back and help me. But, well, I told you how they died. I killed them. I didn’t even know what I was doing until Freddy tried to stab me. That gave me this.” Catherine said, tapping the scar on her eye. “It didn’t snap me free, but it woke me up. I just watched myself, strangling a man I loved like a brother. Feet away from the spot where I’d murdered his husband… I wanted to walk with you both, out of those tunnels, out of that damned church, and instead I just killed two of the only people I ever believed cared about me...I’m sorry I was too weak to do it...” Catherine broke, collapsing onto her ass, leaning against the frame of the bed, as if hiding in the shadows blocked from view. Edelgard moved to sit beside her, careful to avoid making any contact. Over several months of sunday night dinners, she’d learned to avoid that. “I… I walked back to the monastery, and right back to her. She told me everything, like she was fucking proud of it. She’d had me as her puppet, her play thing, for years. She… She used me.” Catherine couldn’t keep talking for a moment after that, sobbing into her arms as she pulled her legs up against her chest, hugging them tight. One hand, almost without looking like a conscious action, reached up to grab the wounds in her shoulder. Edelgard could only sit there as her worry about the earlier implication was proven horrifyingly true. “Claw marks.” Catherine said, her fingers drawing along one thin scar. “She… she said she had me ‘the moment she wanted me’... I was 18 when I joined the knights out of school, you know?” Edelgard noticed Catherine looking over to her with a desperation that seemed so foreign to her Catherine “I was just a kid… I was just a dumb fucking kid who wanted to be a knight.” 

“Catherine, I’m so sorry… Why didn’t you tell me? Goddess, if we’d known, we wouldn’t have treated you like an enemy....” 

“How could I admit I let something like that happen to me, Princess? How could I tell you that, or Ferdinand, or Ashe?” Catherine seemed to go quiet at the mention of the name. “Goddess, that poor girl has been through too much already. I promised I’d keep her safe, and I failed her. She’s right to hate me.” Catherine shook her head. “For a while I tried, tried to make her hate me. Everyone, really. I thought I could keep everyone safe from me if Rhea managed to get her hands on me again. Now… I just want to be better, I’m trying to, but I just don’t fucking know how. I just want to be me, but I don’t know who I am anymore. I can’t tell where I stopped and the me she wanted began… I’m sorry. For what I said about you not protecting Ferdinand. I guess it’s hypocritical for me to accuse someone of failing to keep people they care about safe.” 

There was a long, tense silence between the two as they sat there, ruminating in everything. Edelgard thought back about everything that had happened to Catherine after the battle. The being knocked unconscious, knowing strange guards had carried her there...that explained why she had asked about it, and the fear of being touched. Catherine, on the other hand could only stew in how she had spent so long trying to reign in her angry, petty, bitter bullshit since the fight with Ashe, and yet today she let it take her over and nearly got herself killed for it. Deep down, she struggled to really give a shit. She would risk her life a thousand times to keep the Black Eagles safe. 

“I think that sort of thinking does you little good.” Edelgard said, legs crossed as she sat there beside a woman she had once called her friend, and now had no idea what she was. Catherine never replied. “I know that this is something that you must deal with, however it is best for you, and I hope you know that I am here for you whenever I can be. But, Catherine… this isn’t you. Hiding, sulking in your bedroom or the greenhouse, it does nothing for you but stunt you from growing past it all.” Edlegard sighed, rubbing her thumb along the palm of her exposed hand. “I do not mean to come across as callous. But please know that this world moves on, with or without us, and… I would rather face that alongside you then simply watch it pass you by. The paths that brought us into each other's lives may be strange ones, but I’m glad to have met you. ” 

“Maybe you’re right…” Catherine seemed to have found herself deep in thought. After another gap of silence, Edelgard’s stomach let out a loud grumble, and the two realized just how dark the room had gotten. They never lit any candles, and when they looked out the window, the only light was the moon shining in. 

“Would you like to accompany me to our usual sunday?” Edelgard asked, a bit hopeful. Catherine seemed to mull the idea over in her head, finally letting out a sigh. 

“I… actually think I might need to go see someone. Someone I’ve been avoiding for a really long time. But… maybe we can try for tomorrow night?” Edelgard smiled, nodding as she stood up. 

“I think I can make that work. It isn’t as if I have any 11 pm meetings. I think if I tried to, Hubert might skin me alive. He… he says thank you, by the way.” Catherine smiled, and for just a moment Edelgard saw the old Catherine there, sat next to her. 

“Tell him I appreciate it. Good night, Princess. ” Edelgard smiled, and Catherine appreciated the sight. Sometimes it was hard to remember that through all of this, people could still smile. 

That had to explain the warmth that filled her chest, didn’t it? Yeah, no, that had to be it. 

“Goodnight, Catherine. And, if you decide you’d rather cook tonight, feel free to come and find me. Sleep eludes me often, so it’d be a favor to not spend the evening staring at my ceiling or at my desk.” Catherine nodded to herself as Edelgard moved to leave, not even having fully shut the door as Catherine began changing her shirt.

Some time later, Petra moved to the bottom floor, seeing a woman in her early forties looking over several crates of supplies in the main room of the outpost. Her soft blue curls hung down past her shoulders, a pair of intricate braids running along either side of her head. In contrast to Alexandra, who was in fact nowhere to be seen, this woman’s arms were almost completely untouched by scars or wounds, to the point that her skin seemed more like smooth russet brown clay that the skin of a soldier, and yet she was one of the most skilled mages in Brigid, as well as Petra’s own advisor. Her cheek was adorned in a pattern of blue lines that moved and shifted at sharp angles, forming a pristine geographic pattern that curled down her neck. 

“Vasily, have you seen Alexandra?” Petra asked as she walked up beside the woman, noting that, somehow, the violet fabric of the mid-thigh length dress her advisor wore was somehow completely unmarred by blood. The purple fabric was intricately stitched with silver thread in the patterns that represented many of the gods of Brigid, and out of the collar there was another tattoo, one that seemed to spread out from near her heart in a curling, winding pattern of purple ink. 

“Yes, my queen. She and a few others have gone to the olive grove to fetch water to put out the fire atop the roof.” 

“Are they not aware that there is a river almost half the distance in the other direction?” 

“Oh believe me, my queen, I ensured my darling was plenty aware of that, but she seemed convinced that the olive grove would be a better place to retrieve the water. She was adamant, however, and you know how that woman can get when she is set on her plan.” Vasily sounded somewhere between annoyed and admiring of her wife’s stubborn nature. 

“Well, I suppose it is of little import where the water comes from as long as the fire is put out before it can do any real damage to the outpost. When do you think we’ll be able to establish a regular deployment to this place?” 

“It should only be a few days before I’m able to connect with the leading commanders and can find a team that will be able to take up the responsibility. Although, I do have quite a few questions, starting with what happened to the team dispatched to take over this location in the first place.” Vasily noted, reaching into one of the boxes and pulling out an unopened bottle of that same liquor Petra had seen above. “And, who under the sun has been supplying these men?” 

“Could it not be stockpiled from before the recall in the Empire?” 

“No, I don’t believe so. These bottles all seem too new to be any kind of larger stockpile, and I highly doubt a grouping of men the size of which had been stationed here could hold on to a supply of alcohol this large for this long. From what we saw today, self control and rational thought did not seem to be these men’s strong suits.It rarely is.” Petra chuckled at Vasily’s point, reaching in and looking over a bottle of the drink herself. One thing caught her eye, however. The name on the bottle. 

“King’s Lion Brandy.” Vasily read aloud, shaking her head. “What kind of asinine name is that?” 

Petra felt her stomach fall out from beneath her. This was not Adrestian liquor, it was Faergan. Someone from Faergus, or at least with access to their supplies, had been aiding these men in their maintained stay here in their land. But who could have maintained that sort of supply line? Why? What would they hope to do by maintaining one single outpost in their country, leaving the men alone with nothing but their own foul souls and a crate of supplies? 

Unless they weren’t alone. 

“Vasily, how long ago did Alexandra leave?” Petra asked, the worry in her voice making the advisor visibly concerned. 

“Less than 15 minutes ago, my queen. Why, what is the matter?” 

“We need to move quickly, the fire on the roof is not an attempt at destruction, it’s a signal pyre. We need to ensure it is put out before whoever is meant to see it-“ Petra’s words were drowned out by the explosion that rocked the walls of the building, sending them cascading down around them. 

Catherine stood before a grassy patch of land. In the dark, it was almost indistinguishable from the grass around it, save for one thing. Buried in the dirt was a long silver handle jutting over 4 feet into the air. Catherine sat toward the side, setting a few loose flowers she had plucked from the greenhouse onto the mound, right at the base where the handle began angling in from the slice that had cut off the hammer head impaled in the ground. In the light, the still-unrusted silver looked like a spear, and as Catherine set down to small glasses by it, one filled with whine, the other with the first whiskey she could find stashed away in the kitchen, she began to speak. 

“Hey, boys…. Long time no see, huh? I guess I have a lot to catch you up on.” Catherine looked at the handle with a heavy sigh, tears coming to her eyes already. “ I’ve been a pretty big idiot lately. Shocking, I know. But I’m doing better, or trying to at least. I um… I figured I’d bring you both something to drink. It’s stupid, I know. But uh,don’t worry, Joe, I remembered your allergies. I know you liked sweet wines more… but I did the best I could. I um… I started gardening! I know, right? Who would have thought, me a farmer type, haha, but I’m actually getting pretty good at it. There’s just this one damn stubborn flowerbed that refuses to grow like, anything. It used to have these beautiful flowers, just gorgeous. But I guess I still have some room to grow.” Catherine walked them through everything over the past year. The war, Rhea, her less-than-stellar plan when she first joined everyone else in the Monastery, the garden, the fight with Ashe, everything. When she had spent quite some time sat there in the silence of the night after having run out of things to say, she stood, readying to leave, and took one final look, staring and the long silver handle. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come… I miss you, boys. I miss you so fucking much.” Her voice came out as a whimper as she stood there, wiping tears from her eyes. “I’m so sorry, for everything. I...I’m gonna find a way to make it better. To do something really good, for once in my damned life. I’m gonna keep my promise, Freddy. I won’t let her get away with this. Just don’t go giving up on me… I still need you. I love you both. I hope at the very least you both have each other, wherever you are. If Letty is there with you, tell her I said I love her, and that I’m sorry I couldn’t say it when she was here… Goodnight, boys. It was nice to have the whole team back for a little while.” 

That was when she heard the crash. Then she heard the scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! SO! A lot of shit happened this week, and that’s rad, but also sad. I really wanted this weeks update to show that, while last weeks update let us see that Catherine is trying to be better and making a lot of progress, she’s still healing and thus she’s making some… less than intelligent decisions. This scene between Edelgard and Cat is one that I really really really have been bursting at the seams to get to, and i’m so proud of how it turned out. I really loved being able to write both of them being able to just, literally, lay themselves bare to one another and be honest for once in their fucking lives, and also show Edelgard growing from her experience with Byleth. I’m glad everyone really seemed to like Alexandra last week, and i’m excited to see how every likes Vasily, and if anyone can get kinda what I’m going for with the tattoos. Also I hope that final scene made yall cry as much reading it as it did me proofing it, cus damn that shit hurted. 
> 
> I wanna hear everyone’s opinions on what the fuck Catherine heard, and also just like general reactions to this weeks chapter!!! So lemme hear yalls thoughts, cus I love to interact with yall! 
> 
> As I mentioned earlier, i’m part of the duo putting on the “Somewhere to Belong” Zine project, and if you haven’t checked it out yet, it’d be really freaking cool if you did! Twitter.com/3HTransZine


	28. Chapter 28: Unsainted, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just give us a minute. We have to kill this tramp and then we can leave and get you right back to the Archbishop.” Nicholae said, drawing his blade out and turning toward Edelgard. 
> 
> Was it really meant to end so pitifully? Over a decade of struggle, barely surviving hell and torture, only to die on her knees in the middle of her office? 
> 
> “Wait.” Catherine said, almost bored. Nicholae turned to her, eyes squinting suspiciously through the slats of his helmet. 
> 
> “You gone soft on us, Cat?” He asked. 
> 
> “No. Quite the opposite.” Catherine said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. “Let me kill the bitch. She held me prisoner for over a year, I’m due my justice to those who hurt me, am I not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, a little later than I'd like for this update, but I hope yall think it's worth the wait! There was a LOT of shit in this chapter that I've wanted to write over the past little while, and I'm really really excited to see what yall think of where this goes. Here's a hint: It's really fucking gay. 
> 
> Also, as I mentioned before, along with a good friend of mine, Eli, I’m helping put together Somewhere to Belong: A trans wlw/mlm relationship zine, it’s @3hTransZine on Twitter! If yall could, going to check out the twitter and fill out the interest check would be hella hella appreciated, and I thank you all!
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage and check out Somewhere to Belong, a FETH Trans wlw/mlm zine @3HTransZine

Petra pushed herself up, blood trickling down her forehead as she looked around, seeing the base crumbling into rubble and ash around her, but not on top of her. She tried to find her balance and a way onto her feet as she looked around more, realizing she could barely see the world through the strange haze around her. But the haze wasn’t smoke, no, this was a glowing, faint blue light that seemed to warp the world outside. 

“My queen…” Vasily muttered, hands stretched outward, holding onto the side of the haze. “My ward can only hold so long. We must move.” 

“Agreed. Can you walk?” 

“Not at the same time as I hold this ward above us. I exhausted myself in the battle, and this is draining as-” Vasilly was cut off by the sound of something cracking above them, a massive segment of the ceiling breaking loose and plummeting toward them, smashing against the barrier and sending cracks through the haze like it were a pane of glass, making Vasilly scream. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold the barrier up.” Vasilly said, her voice growing weaker with every word as her hands trembled, and the haze grew fainter each second more. 

“Vasilly, do you have enough power in you for a wind burst?” 

“I… I think so… My queen.” 

“Then on my signal, release the barrier and cast it. Hold for just a second before casting, but not a moment longer.” Petra said, finding her weapon still at its place on her hip, and drawing it as she let the energy of a fireball spell flow into the steel.

“Yes, my queen.” Vasily all but whispered. Petra gave herself a second, kneeling down and readying her blade to strike. 

“Now!” Petra shouted. In an instant, the barrier fell, and as Vasily readied her spell as she had been ordered, Petra swung her blade out, the flames on the steel tearing themselves away and forming into an arc, carving through the chunk of rubble. A second later, and Vasily’s wind sent the split rubble scattering out in every direction save for on top of them. Petra cheered, but soon Vasily was back to her feet, grabbing her queen by the wrist and quite literally dragging her back to the front door. The two women slammed against the door, sending themselves out and tumbling down the few front steps, coughing and gasping as they tasted fresh air. 

“Hm, I guess I should not be surprised you survived that.” A man said, heavy boots marching toward them, several other sets marching in behind him. Petra held tight to her blade, still coughing as she sluggishly lifted herself into a low crouch, facing the familiar face that now glared down at her. “It seems the Emperor has done well in choosing her dogs. None of you nor the damned Eagles in Fodlan seem willing to just lay down and die.” Dimitri lamented, a curved bone-blade jutting out from the end of his lance as he used it like a walking stick. A pair of gleaming blue eyes stared at Petra with such malice it was almost sickening, his hair having grown ragged in the time since she had last seen him. He wore black armor, with a heavy wolf pelt draped over his shoulders. Nearly 2 dozen men in Faergun armor and waving blue banners strode in behind him, and Petra knew she needed to bide time. 

“I am no dog, Dimitri. But you are clearly a stray, lost in territory that is not yours to wander.” Petra positioned herself between Dimitri and Vasily, the advisor still trying to regain her breath, her coughs and inhales noticeably weak from the strain of her magic. 

“Ah, I come not to wander your land, traitor, but to liberate it!” Dimitri growled. “Liberate it from the vile despot you serve, puppet of the emperor!” 

“I am no one’s puppet, you vile welp!” 

“Then you are an accomplice!” Dimitri responded. “And you will fall, as will Edelgard and all the rest who enable her evil.”

“And what of the evil you enable under the banner of the kingdom and the church?” Petra chided, trying to suppress the smile she felt trying to crawl onto her lips as she listened, hearing the faintest noise off in the distance. 

“I stand for order and peace. The church has upheld those, until the Empire sought to throw it into chaos! We will make that peace anew, no matter the cost, for the glory of the goddess.” Dimitri’s thin lips pulled into a wicked grin. “Starting by bringing order to this rabid land which the Empire abandoned to chaos.” 

“You will bring nothing to my home but your blood and corpses if you do not turn and flee now.” This seemed funny to Dimitri, who couldn’t seem to stop his laughter. 

Not until Pyrois fell atop two of his men, screeching in an unholy rage as she took off again, both men in her grasp until she dropped them from hundreds of feet high into the river. 

“Gut them where they stand!” Alexandra bellowed, a howling laugh escaping her throat as the team came out of the forest’s on either side of the road. Dimitri dropped down, turning to the sound of the woman’s voice, giving Petra a chance to strike. 

She tried to push another spell into her weapon, but her energy was seemingly already exhausted, and once she reached Dimitri, she swung at him with a plane blade, which he easily knocked away with the handle of his lance. Petra reached for her hip, hoping she might have enough energy to hurl an arrow, but her quiver was gone, and before she could turn to look for it, she saw Dimitri charging toward her. 

“My queen!” Alexandra called, running forward and slamming her shoulder into Dimitri, sending him sprawling back. She saw Vasily, eyes going wide. “My heart!”

“I’m fine, dear, protect the queen!” Vasily coughed out, and with a nod, Alexandra and Petra faced Dimitri, now back on his feet, with both of their weapons at the ready. 

Dimitri growled in rage, swiping out with his lance, narrowly missing Petra before being batted away by Alexandra. Petra thrust her blade out, intent to impale Dimitri through the slats in his armor as Alexandra swung to take out his knees. Dimitri embedded the handle of his lance in the ground, blocking the path of the axe and pushing up, bracing himself as he launched his foot out into Petra’s chest, sending her stumbling back before the blade could connect. 

Alexandra tried to swipe the lance handle, hoping to send Dimitri flopping onto his back, but by then the Faergan king was already going back to the ground, one of his boots landing heavily on Alexandra’s ribcage, filling the air with several loud cracks. He raised his lance, intent to decapitate Alexandra where she lay, until Petra ran up, blade aimed for the man’s spine. 

Dimitri turned, slashing down with his lance, intent to cleave her head clear from her body in Alexandra’s place, and had Petra been a step closer it might have done just that, but instead she felt the blade carve into the side of her cheek, sending her spiraling down to the ground. 

She heard footsteps in the sand, accompanied by vile cackling. 

“I shall end you, servant of the deceiver, in the name of the goddess, the church and the archbishop! May her love and mercy shine on your soul, for I have none of either to show a dog of the devil!” Petra rolled onto her back to sit up, only to feel a boot on her stomach, looking up to see glee in Dimitri’s eyes as he hoisted the lance high. “I shall not fail Lady Rhea. I can not fail Lady Rhea.” Dimitri almost seemed to pray, and as he began to drive his lance downward, so too did something drive into him. 

“Get off of her you mutt!” Alexandra drove her shoulder into Dimitri’s spine, sending him sprawling forward, his lance still in his hand. As he moved to stand, Alexandra smashed her boot into the back of his head. “I’ll gut you like the pig you are for daring to touch the queen of this land!” Alexandra brought her boot back, intent to stomp the man into the soil he seemed so intent to ‘liberate’, only for Dimitri to roll away, lashing out sloppily with his lance and carving a deep gash inot Alexandra’s thigh, gaining the time he needed to stand.

“I’ll be the one to bleed you, you horrid sow! I’ll bleed all of you filthy mongrels it takes to bring you to heel!” Dimitri ranted, his lance glowing with intent to eviscerate, until an arrow drove into his eyesocket. 

Dimitri fell back, screaming and clutching the bleeding eye as Petra ran over to Alexandra, moving to pull her away. 

“Call my wife a mongrel one more time and see where the next bolt goes, you cunt!” Vasily mumbled, Petra’s quiver of arrows in her hands. She seemed to question herself for a moment, looking up at Alexandra as the protector was lifted off of the ground by her queen. “Alexandra… I think your poor vocabulary has been a terrible influence on me.” 

“I love that woman so fucking much.” Alexandra whispered to Petra, chuckling as they hobbled over toward Vasily. Petra took her quiver, an arrow drawn and ready to launch, but as Petra turned, ready to end Dimitri there and then, she saw him fleeing along with the last survivors of his team. Alexandra collapsed onto her knees beside Vasily. “My angel, are you ok? We saw the two of you, you weren’t getting up and I feared the worst.” Alexandra said, already half in tears as she reached up, taking the shorter woman’s face in her hands, tossing Vasily’s spectacles away before leaning in, kissing every inch of her face a dozen times each, at least. 

“My light, I am alive and well. Those men never came within a foot of me.” Vasily tried to keep talking, but soon she began to giggle as Alexandra’s kisses refused to cease. “Dear, dear I’m ok I swear! Hehehe, oh my goodness now you’re just doing this so I won’t say I told you so about the olive orchard!” Alexandra leaned away, pulling her wife into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, my queen, you saved me and protected my heart, I find myself ever more in your debt.” Alexandra said, looking up at Petra. 

“Clearly, Alexandra, it is I who is in your and Vasily’s debt. Were it not for the both of you, I’d likely be dead.” Petra said, collapsing onto her backside and into the soft dirt. 

“My queen, it is our duty to you to protect you, there is no debt to be held there. I have stood beside your family since you were but a babe in the crib, and I will do it happily for the rest of my days.” Vasily said, finally prying herself free of her wife’s iron grip, before pulling Alexandra into a hug of her own. 

“Then there is no debt to be held anywhere. As your queen it is my duty to act toward the protection of and betterment of the lives of every person in Brigid, you two are no different.” 

“Wise words, my queen.” Vasily said. Petra watched as Pyrois began flying back from harassing the fleeing Faergans. 

“Where do you think they will go?” Petra asked no one in particular. 

“Likely, home. At least the chauvinistic prat with one less eye. He shall flee in hope of avoiding losing his other eye, and leave his men here to raise havoc for us until we kill them all.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“You forget, my queen, that Vasily was the lead tactician for our fight against the empire before you arrived. There were long years of battle before your return, and we have stood together and seen many a coward flee from our fight.” Alexandra said, pride overflowing as she sung her wifes praise, making Vasily blush.

“My dear, help me find my spectacles, I can’t see beyond an inch from my face.” Vasily said a moment later. 

Edelgard sat in her office, perched at her desk with her axe, the twisted creation of bone and tooth kept as far as possible from her as possible, tucked in the opposite corner of the room. when she knew well that she should be in her bed chambers, resting. But how could she rest when she felt the weight of the world that she had to hold? She sighed as she felt the weight of the day fall on her shoulders. 

Apparently, Thales had left the grounds of the Monastery upon finishing their little chat, and she got the distinct feeling that there would be hell to pay, whether under the guise of retribution for the incident with the gardening equipment, or the Black Eagle Strike Force, Edelgard neither knew nor cared. There always was some justification when it came to that monster.

She knew this world was not one for kindness, but there really was just no end to the hell she seemed to have to slog through every single day. Between managing her war outside of her borders, and her attempts to wrangle the nobility and other lurking enemies within them, she found herself growing ever more exhausted.

Then there was everything she had learned about Catherine today, and the strange way it seemed to tear at her. The former knight had changed so drastically when the war had begun that she had given up on trying to understand it, and the she seemed to just pop back into Edelgard’s life, their Sunday nights now dominated with each other’s company as they cooked and ate together, swapping stories from Catherine’s past when she could bear to tell them, and listening to Edelgard rant about this or that noble lord or enraged bastard or disloyal soldier that had drawn another tally mark in the count of nonsense she had to face that week. 

How she wished she could be dining with the knight right then. Things seemed to make sense when Catherine was near, at least more than they did without her. It was like it had been with Byleth, but in an entirely different way. Byleth was quiet, calm, and straight forward. Looking at a problem in their path, Byleth would as soon look at how to go through it than around it. Catherine, on the other hand, seemed to be able to think but seemingly incapable of doing it in the same manner as others. The thought of the battle in Miklan’s tower came to mind, and how she had been flung onto the beasts back by Catherine’s sword. If byleth were to go through a problem, Catherine was the first to ask why they couldn’t just hop over it. 

Or perhaps that was just her trying to rationalize away her guilt at feeling similar around Catherine as she did around her Professor. Catherine deserved to be more than just a stand in for Byleth. Catherine deserved… That train of thought was quickly stomped. Edelgard’s mind felt like such a jumble of messy thoughts and confusing feelings that culminated in a chaos that could drive her mad. She felt the beginning of a headache coming on, and sighed as she reached back, slowly beginning to pull her hair into a braid to try and alleviate some of the weight. 

Her mind drifted to the piece of information she’d failed to share with Catherine earlier, the piece of knowledge she had failed to share with anyone, in fact. She was dying, and quickly. By Lysithea’s guess, they both had less than a decade left before a slow and painful death overtook them, the weight of their crests tearing them apart piece by piece. No one knew except them, and Edelgard found herself sick at just the thought of what that could mean. 

What if she died earlier than that? She was a few years older than Lysithea, so it seemed not unlikely, but at the same time Lysithea had been experimented on first. What would happen if the war had not been completed by then? Or if her war was won but her grand reforms, the dissolution of the throne she strived so long for, was left undone by her passing? What if Byleth were to return after she had died? What if Byleth never returned at all? 

That was when she heard the crash of the door to her office smashing open. Several armed men charged in, and she was already lunging for the axe. The spot it was set in seemed a foolish mistake now, as one of the knights managed to grab her before she could reach it. Edelgard swung her leg around, smashing the man's leg inward and sending him down, but the awkward angle of the strike also sent a torturous pain through her foot, leaving her to fall beside him. 

Edelgard swore and tried to lunge for her axe from a crouch, but another knight smashed her in the face with the heel of his boot, sending her sprawling onto the ground as the rest of the armed men surrounded her, and before she knew it, her hands were bound in front of her, and she was kneeling before half a dozen Knights of Seiros, each of them armed with more swords and weapons then an entire battalion could need. Many of them held the seals of the Empire, and Edelgard realized she could see Thunderbrand on one man’s back, and the unmistakable short sword that had belonged to her Professor on another’s hip. They must have raided the armory before finding her. 

“Holy shit, boys, we got her.” A man’s voice called from under one of the helmets, the forehead emblazoned with the crest of Seiros. 

“This is glorious. We’ll definitely be getting a promotion out of this.” Another called. He sounded vaguely familiar, and Edelgard deduced he was the one who had Thunderbrand. 

“Ok, so do we risk taking her back, or kill her here?” A third voice asked. 

“Are you a fucking idiot? Our orders are kill on sight.” The first voice said. 

“Well yeah, but those orders were under the assumption that we’d be in a situation where killing her is the only option. If we can take her hostage, they can use her as a bargaining chip. Make sure the Imperial Generals don’t keep up the fight in her ‘honor’ or some shit.” 

“Yeah, or it could make the generals all fight ten times harder in an attempt to save her from us. We were ordered to kill on sight, this is about as ‘on sight’ as you can get, so we kill the bitch.” The Thunderbrand wielder said plainly. There was a sudden sharp interruption, and Edelgard heard a loud two note whistle as another set of footsteps approached. Every knight turned and faced the doorway, weapons drawn. 

“Damn, talk about a warm greeting. Is this how you bastards say hi after so long? I’m hurt.” Catherine said, hands in the air, one of them occupied by the long, silver handle of Joseph’s hammer handle as she sauntered into the room. “Or do you not recognize me with the new hair?” 

“Holy shit.” The first knight said. 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” A more feminine voice said. 

“She lives!” The one holding thunderbrand said, walking over and throwing his arm over Catherine’s shoulder. Catherine didn’t seem to react, it was as if he didn’t exist to her, her eyes just looking off into the distance blankly. “Holy fuck, Catherine we all thought you were dead!” 

“Come on Nicholae, you know me better than that.” Catherine said, and the knight chuckled before slapping her on the back. “What in the hell are you even doing here on a mission like this? Last I saw, you were still in the healing team. 

“You’ve been out of the game a while, Catherine.” Nicholae said, stepping back and taking stock of his old comrade. “Goddess be merciful you look like shit. What’s with the stick?” 

“I heard the ruckus and figured now was my chance to escape. I had planned to try and use this to raid the armory, but I see you boys already did that.” 

“Clever. We all thought you’d bit the big one during the battle last year. You have to believe me, if we thought you were alive we would have been here way sooner to break you out. Lady Rhea was heartbroken when we lost you.” Edelgard saw that same blankness in Catherine’s eyes, and she didn’t even seem to react to the woman’s name. 

“Well, let’s move quickly to ensure I’m returned to her, then.” Catherine said, her eyes meeting Edelgard’s for just a moment, and that blankness turned into a sort of pleading encouragement, as if trying to tell Edelgard to just go along with a plan it was clear she didn’t have. 

“Just give us a minute. We have to kill this tramp and then we can leave and get you right back to the Archbishop.” Nicholae said, drawing his blade out and turning toward Edelgard. 

Was it really meant to end so pitifully? Over a decade of struggle, barely surviving hell and torture, only to die on her knees in the middle of her office? 

“Wait.” Catherine said, almost bored. Nicholae turned to her, eyes squinting suspiciously through the slats of his helmet. 

“You gone soft on us, Cat?” He asked. 

“No. Quite the opposite.” Catherine said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. “Let me kill the bitch. She held me prisoner for over a year, I’m due my justice to those who hurt me, am I not?” 

“I don’t know…”Nicholae muttered. Catherine’s mouth pulled into a tight, cocky grin. Edelgard wondered if everyone else noticed the twitch in the very corner of that smirk. It was always a dead giveaway whenever she tried to lie. 

“Oh come on, Nicholae. I’ve been out of the game for a while, give me a chance to prove myself, to prove that I haven’t forgotten who my real friends are.” Nicholae nodded, looking around and seeming to find reassurance in the half a dozen other knights around him. 

“Fine, Catherine. I figure you deserve a chance to show you haven’t gone too soft since you’ve been out of the fight.” Nicholae turned to the knight with the shortsword on his hip. “Hey, give her the wimpy dagger you found in the armory. That should be perfect.” the knight nodded, pulling the blade from his hip, handing it to Catherine, handle first. “Just don’t go getting too cozy.” 

“You worry too much, Nicholae. Humor me, I’ve had a lot of shit I've wanted to say this past year.” Nicholae shrugged, gesturing for Catherine to continue on. Catherine turned back to Edelgard, her eyes, for just a moment, showing a true hint of fear. Catherine knelt in front of the Emperor, looking around, smiling as if it were some kind of joke. I’ll be honest, when I thought about how this whole situation would play out, I always expected you to beg more, just like the little bitch you are.” The knights chuckled at the cruel jab, and Edelgard saw Catherine shift her head forward barely an inch, her eyelids spreading wide as if going ‘Come on, Princess, take the fucking hint!’. Edelgard realized what she was being told to do, and prayed that Catherine knew what she was doing, Edelgard von Hresvelg refused to have her final words be her begging for her life. 

“Catherine, don’t do this.” 

“Shut up.” Catherine barked. Burying the tip of the crude spear into the ground right in front Edelgard, between her two bound wrists, the ‘threat’ clear. Catherine’s eyes seemed to shift, and for a moment Edelgard felt as if she were seeing more of the genuine Catherine than she had in years. “You remember what I told you to promise me that day in Faergus, Princess?” Edelgard looked at her, confused. “ ‘Just try not to get yourself killed. Live a long, happy life and stay the hell out of shit like this…’ Goddess, did you fuck that one up good.” 

“Hurry it up Catherine.” Nicholae chided. 

“Fine.” Catherine sighed, standing and leaving the spear in its place, readying her swing. “I guess it’s only fair that I do this. What else is a feral bitch good for, right? Goodbye, Edelgard. Keep that promise.” 

It happened like a flash of lightning. One moment, the blade was swinging down at Edelgard, poised to end her, and the next all Edelgard could see was the blood sputtering out of the stump that had been Nicholae’s neck mere moments ago. Before he had even fallen to the ground, Catherine pulled an axe off of his back, throwing it onto the ground before her.

Edelgard ripped her hands back, the edge of the handle tearing the thin rope around her wrists apart. She clasped the axe in her hands, moving to her feet as Catherine pulled the hammer handle free, a flick of her wrist as she held it like a spear, and the pair launched into battle, side by bloody side. 

Catherine blocked a swing from one knight’s sword with her spear, thrusting the short sword forward and feeling it rip into the opponent’s side. A long silver sword buried into her thigh, and as the wielder pulled the blade free, readying another strike, Catherine used the short sword to knock the sword off course, lunging forward and grabbing the underside of the knight’s helmet with the same hand and shoving her opponent back, pushing the helmet up before she buried the crude lance through their soft palate. The dead knight dropped like a sack of potatoes. 

Edelgard ducked out of the path of a lance strike from the knight she’d hobbled earlier, and took no small joy in striking that same knee with the axe handle, hearing the bone crack and the knight scream as she lifted the axe, chopping through the man’s shoulder and removing his left arm entirely, silencing his agonized screams with a final strike to the skull. 

Catherine pulled her blade loose, using it to block an oncoming strike from one of the dead bastard’s comrades, however, the next strike tore open Catherine’s shirt, leaving a deep gash along her chest that poured blood down her front on top of knocking her back into the wall. She braced against it, using it as leverage as she kicked the opponent in the chest, sending him stumbling back. Edelgard saw the man careening toward her, grabbing his wrist with one hand and using the other to swing the axe down into the unarmored inside of his elbow, severing the held limb with ease. The knight screamed as Catherine’s lance struck out, tearing open his thigh and sending him down to the ground on one knee. Catherine’s own knee swung up and smashed into the knight’s exposed nose, causing it to erupt in blood as his head launched back toward the floor. 

Catherine’s leg kept moving, her boot smashing into the head, a loud crack ringing out as the bones broke between boot and wood. Another stomp, and blood was seeping from the man’s eyes. A third, and she felt something give beneath her. 

“Catherine!” Edelgard warned as a dagger dug into the former knight’s shoulder blade, and Catherine felt her bone grind on steel as she wrenched her arm around, the offending opponent’s limb quickly cleaved from the rest of the body. Catherine snarled and tackled the knight to the ground, burying her partner’s shortsword into their chest over and over and over, until her blood was soaking the carpet beneath Catherine’s knees. 

Edelgard saw another knight moving to attack Catherine as she tackled the dagger wielder, and moved to intercept her, using the axe handle as a brace to slam the woman into the wall, knocking the wind from her before Edelgard smashed her nose in with the handle of the axe, stepping back and swinging the flat back of her weapon into the side of the dazed knight’s head, sending grey matter splattering across her floor. 

Catherine pushed herself up, the dagger still buried in her shoulder, and looked down her nose at the final enemy. Catherine clung to her lance and that shortsword, that holy symbol, and felt the shooting pain of the dagger through her shoulder as its humble reassurance as she lunged out, the last knight easily reposting the attack, responding with a knee to Catherine’s stomach that left her stumbling back. Edelgard ran at the knight from the side, swinging her axe overhead. It took all of the knight’s strength to block the strike with her sword, leaving her open as Catherine grabbed her by the edges of her armor, heaving the flailing opponent into the window, smashing the glass pain open and disorienting the knight. Catherine tore off her opponent’s helmet, grabbing a fist full of the knight’s hair that now grew heavy with blood, heaving the head back before slamming it down, right into the sharp shards of broken glass left lining the bottom of the window frame. The knight went limp and fell to the ground as Catherine released her, the quiet of the room filling her ears as she felt that familiar peace. 

She had survived. 

To say that was surprising to Catherine was the understatement of the milenia as she collapsed onto her knees, barely holding herself up with Joe’s hammer handle, now well and truly coated in blood. 

Even in death, Joe never gave up on her. 

Edelgard had somehow managed to not collapse, heaving mountains of air in and out of her lungs as she felt the blood of the knights she had slain dripping down her hands. She moved her head as she heard movement, turning and looking at Catherine, who now was buried underneath so much blood she almost looked unrecognizable. She walked to the woman, seeing a sort of joy in those soft blue eyes. 

Edelgard saw a gash across Catherine’s cheek, her hand instinctively reaching out to try and help, but as it was mere inches away she hesitated, remembering what had made Catherine so averse to touch in the first place. 

It was surprising to her then when she saw Catherine lean into her hand, and the Emperor cupped the knight’s cheek, her thumb slowly dragging along the line of the wound, a faint light emanating out as she watched it stitch shut. Even after the wound was healed, Edelgard held Catherine’s cheek, and the knight made no attempt to move. Were she not utterly sure it was simply her own wishful thinking, Edelgard would share she felt Catherine nuzzling into the touch. 

“Seems I’m a little rusty at the dodging thing...would you mind helping me up?” Catherine said with a weak chuckle, seeming to get dizzy as Edelgard helped her to her feet. 

“You…” Edelgard was speechless. So much had happened in such a short amount of time that she tried to make heads or tails of it and found nothing. She was still holding Catherine’s cheek, even as it seemed the woman had to lean down to maintain the connection. “You said goodbye.” 

“Yeah, I guess I was getting a little, uh, ahead of myself there.” Catherine said, looking away. Edelgard pulled the knight back into eye contact, the grip on her cheek proving quite useful. 

“Catherine if you want to leave, I will tell the guards not to stop you.” Edelgard said plainly, as if extending her own hand another way. Catherine laughed, a weak, pitiful thing, but still a laugh. 

“What, and leave you behind dealing with shit like this alone?” Catherine asked, gesturing to the dead bodies around them. “Hell no, Princess. You aren’t getting rid of me that easy… If you got hurt and Letty found out I walked my happy ass into the sunset and left you all alone, she’d hunt me down and skin me alive herself. I’m not going anywhere until we find her. Clearly someone has got to stick around to make sure you don’t go and get yourself killed.” Catherine said. Edelgard looked dumbstruck, not quite sure how to respond, and unsure of if it were her own fatigue, or just the strangeness of this situation. 

“Lady Edelgard!” Ladislava called, charging into the room and seeing the dead bodies strewn about, along with Catherine and Edelgard, stood a bit awkwardly close in the middle of the room. However it seemed she had missed Edelgard pulling her hand away and Catherine quickly standing straight again. “The guards had reported someone having raided the armory. I investigated, and came to check on you immediately. ” Ladislava put her blade back into its scabbard. 

“Great fucking job, captain. Really A grade bodyguarding right there.” Catherine jeered, dazedly. Ladislava shot her a glare, and Catherine shot one right back as a few others poured into the room, weapons drawn. It was several members of the strike force, and while the rest, including Hubert, Ferdinand, and Flayn, dropped their weapons when they saw Catherine, Ashe stood there, weapon still poised to fight. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Ferdinand asked, hands out to his sides in utter disbelief as he looked at the carnage around them. 

“Assassination attempt. Looks like they also intended to raid your armory and leave you weaponless. My best bet, there’s some sort of encampment nearby that these are a small scouting party for. They’d likely have killed Pri… uh, Edelgard, taken the weapons, and returned at dawn when they knew the chaos would be at its worst to kill as many people as they could knowing you’d be leaderless and unarmed.” Catherine said, almost casually. It was a sound strategy, if brutal. 

“The hell were you doing here to begin with?” Ashe asked, still at the ready. Her eyes never left the blades in Catherine’s hand. 

“Calm yourself, Ashe. She helped me to deal with these men. She was not a part of their attack.” Edelgard assured. Catherine was just thankful she had left out the part about all that time she had spent pretending to want to join their attack in the first place. 

“Very well. Then thanks are in order.” Ladislava said plainly, walking forward. “But we will need to be returning that blade to its rightful place in the armory, with the rest of the weaponry.” Ladislava held her hand out, beckoning Catherine to hand over the blade. 

“I’m not going to do that.” Catherine said, grip tight on the blade as she felt a pang of pain in her shoulder. That seemed to be about the moment several of the people in the room saw the blade still jutting from her, and they also seemed to notice her rather distressed condition. But Ladislava merely rested her hand on the handle of her weapon, regretting having put it away to begin with. 

“I’m sorry, but what was that?” Ashe asked, distrust evident in everything about her. 

“I said I’m not giving back the damn blade, nor the damn handle. Clearly, someone needs to be watching Edelgard’s back, and if Saergent ponytail over here is going to be so piss poor at it then I guess I’m going to have to fucking do it myself. If that’s going to be a problem, I’d highly recommend you think it through before trying to take this blade from me.” Catherine said, her face inches from Ladislava’s and the rest of the room found the tension rather strange. Flayn, with all her issues reading social signals, couldn’t quite tell if the two wanted to kill each other or kiss. Thankfully neither happened, as Edelgard stood between them, pushing Ladislava back while Catherine stepped back without needing prompted. 

“Calm yourselves, the both of you. We’ve had enough fighting tonight, and i’m sick of it. Hubert, Ferdinand, Catherine, please remain here. We have… much to discuss, it seems. Everyone else, please leave.” Edelgard said, shaking her head as she saw flayn raise her hand. “Yes, Flayn?” 

“Can I please stay and heal Catherine? She is just… bleeding all over the place.” Flayn said, gesturing to the indeed rather blood soaked woman. 

“I think this conversation would best be held in private, but I’ll ensure she’s properly tended to, if you trust my skills.” Flayn nodded, pride beaming from her as she walked off, leaving Catherine in the capable hands of her student. “Well, I think we ought to move this to Hubert’s office so we may speak somewhere less…” 

“Corpse filled?” Catherine offered, earning a hesitant nod from Edelgard. It seemed as fitting as any other way to say it. 

They moved to the office in question, Catherine recognized it as Hanneman’s old station as she sat in a heavy padded chair with an oddly smashed left armrest, figuring its destroyed state would make her feel less guilty about ruining the upholstery what with all the blood and such. Edelgard had sat on a chair next to her, and set her hand on Catherine's with the other on the handle of the knife in her shoulder, letting the healing light pass over the entire arm as she wrenched the blade free.   
“Catherine, do you sincerely intend to rejoin military service?” Ferdinand asked, leaning back against the desk where his partner sat. While Ferdinand sounded as if he were barely containing his joy at seeing Catherine rejoin their ranks, Hubert held his eyes rather knowingly locked on his sister. 

“I’m not going to be some damned grunt, but if what I saw in that room is the best you have for help than…” Edelgard’s glare made Catherine second guess her words. “I, oh for fucks sake. I’ll return to service, but only if it is in a position where I can insure… Edelgard’s safety personally. Anything else, and I’ll just go back to my fucking tomatoes. At least those don’t try to murder me. But either way, these weapons are staying in my possession, and anyone who disagrees can form a neat orderly line with all of the bloody corpses on the ground.” Edelgard sighed, but it was likely better than it would have been, so she thanked the goddess for small mercies.

“Edelgard, what do you think of this?” Ferdinand asked, looking at the Emperor who was still mending the wound on the knight’s shoulder. 

“I do not adore the idea of an armed escort, but if the church and… those who lead it are intent to consider such underhanded tactics as what transpired tonight I suppose it is an option I have little reason to disagree with.” Edelgard said plainly. 

“I really do not think this is the wisest decision, Lady Edelgard. The Royal Guard has been disbanded for nearly a decade, and Lord Arundel will likely not enjoy hearing that it is reopened.” Hubert said, leaning back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he watched his sister and could only wonder if she were truly so oblivious or if she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Yes, there are quite a few things that Lord Arundel dislikes. But he also wouldn’t be able to disagree that having a former commander of the Knights of Seiros taking a position as my personal guard has a quite heavy weight as a potential propaganda tool. We might be able to sway some lords if we can tell them a Charon has joined our cause as well.” 

“I wouldn’t count on that, Princess.” Catherine muttered, but was ignored. 

“It seems like such a rushed decision to make, when she has only just now said she is willing to retake up the blade. How do we even know she is fit for the role?” Hubert asked, bewildered. 

“I would think the half-dozen dead men in the Emperor’s office she killed with a shortsword and a broken hammer would be some testament to that,my love.” Ferdinand pointed out. 

“And while I might have moved a bit brashly, I think my little gardening demonstration with Arundel’s skull might show that I am not one to hesitate protecting the people close to me.” Catherine wanted to say something along the lines of ‘and this girl is sleeping with my girlfriend, so that has to count as some kind of close’, but thought better of it. She also knew that throwing in the Arundel bit was likely a bit of a dirty play, knowing that Hubert had said he owed her one for it, but Catherine, even if she was unsure why, was determined to make sure that she could protect Edelgard, at least until Letty was there to do it properly. 

Hubert sighed, chewing on his cheek as he realized that Catherine was stubbornly set on this goal, and Edelard seemed just as stubbornly set to make it happen. That combination was, in a word, terrifying. 

But, he pondered back on the things he’d noticed the past few months. The half eaten plates of food left in the office, where previously there would just be trays of pastries barely touched, the sunday nights he would, just by coincidence, walk past the dining halls to hear Edelgard laughing, the fact that those were the nights he could actually hear Edelgard come back to her room in the dormitory and fall into bed at a proper hour. Whether Catherine would make Edelgard any safer or not, it seemed the woman had some kind of positive effect. Perhaps just from her association with the Professor, Hubert wondered if that might help his sister maintain at least some healthy habits. Besides, it seemed neither of the two women nor his own partner intended to let him or foolish things like ‘sense’ and ‘reasoning’ get in the way. So finally he threw his hands up. 

“Fine. I shall begin arrangements for the reestablishment of the Adrestian Royal Guard, and ensure that Catherine is appropriately outfitted. The armorer should be able to see her tomorrow, and I can have Thunderbrand brought back from the armory as well, as I believe Ladislava has already taken the weapons back.” 

“That last one won’t be necessary.” Catherine said. 

“I beg your pardon?” Hubert asked. 

“Thunderbrand can remain in the armory. I did just fine tonight with a broken hammer and Letty’s shortsword.” 

“Absolutely not. I will not allow the leader of this nation to be guarded with a broken handle and a letter opener.” Hubert said firmly. “You have the ability to wield a relic in the defense of the revolution, we shall use that to its fullest.” Catherine looked ready to stand up and walk out of the room before Ferdinand rested a hand on his partner’s shoulder. 

“My light, let us find some compromise.” Ferdinand turned to Catherine. “If we intend to sell this to the public as a sign of power and weakness in the church, the relic would be a powerful image. But, there is no need to restrict to only one weapon. Let us simply allow Catherine her weapons of choice… And might i please request having the blacksmith make something a bit more fitting than just a broken handle, and Catherine may have all three weapons at her disposal if need be? Can we all agree to those terms?” Ferdinand asked all three others in the room. 

“... Yeah, I can deal with that.” 

“As can I. But I believe that is all I have in me this evening. I shall retire. Catherine, come find me at dawn tomorrow and we shall begin your preparations.” Catherine nodded, and as Hubert left, Ferdinand alongside him, she and Edelgard remained, taking time to ensure her wounds were properly healed. 

“You know, that was just downright manipulative.” Edelgard teased, her hand passing over the edges of the large gash on Catherine’s chest. 

“What can I say, I figured if you have a card to play, it’s insulting to not play it when you can.” 

“You sound terrible at cards.” Edelgard remarked. 

“Oh, believe me I am. But also, Hubert is the master manipulator, so if anything I was just playing his game, his way.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” Edelgard muttered. 

“Woah, Princess, language.” Edelgard only rolled her eyes, slapping Catherine in the side of the head. Finally, the wound was closed, and Catherine felt like a million gold. 

“There, you should be fine. Now, I believe they should be done clearing the office and repairing the door. I think I shall go and work there for a while before bed.” 

“Oh hell the fuck no. You’re getting some sleep, now.” 

“You’re my bodyguard, not my nanny, Catherine.” 

“Not the point. For the love of the Goddess, Princess, it’s late as hell, go to bed. At least in the dorms you have an entire building full of people to help keep you safe.” Edelgard glowered at her. “Fine, then let me grab a chair. If you intend to go work in your office, then I’m going to do my shit, and I’ll keep guard.” 

“Catherine, you’re being ridiculous.” 

“No, I'm being good at my job. Are you forgetting the time you nearly got killed because no one was around when a bunch of dudes broke into your office? I know it’s easy to forget, I mean it happened a whole 10 minutes ago.” 

“Damnit all, fine, I’ll go to my chambers. Is this how you intend to be the entire time you’re my guard?” Catherine nodded, smiling as they marched toward the dorms. 

Catherine walked Edelgard to her room, bidding her good night before walking back to her own and collapsing onto the bed, her side of it, of course. 

That night was one of the most restful she had had in months. 

“The Blue Lions?” Sothis asked from the back of Byleth’s mind. “Why choose them this time through? You’ve gone with the Golden Deer every single time before, why change on attempt number 5?” Byleth shook her head, marching toward Zanado with the aforementioned Blue Lions in tow. 

“Yes, I chose to teach the Lions this time.” Byleth thought, keeping silent as she knew Sothis could hear her thoughts just fine. “And how did those attempts all turn out, Sothis?” 

“Ok, sheesh, no need to get snippy with me. I’m just curious.” Byleth saw her eyes roll as she kept walking, lance in hand like an especially deadly walking stick. 

“But my point stands. I spent four different versions of events with the Golden Deer, and every single time I could do nothing to stop the war it seems Edelgard is determined to plunge Fodlan into, and even after that, I’ve tried to end it in a way that allows Edelgard to survive, but it simply hasn’t happened. Four times I’ve tried thus far, and each time I’m left alone, with both Catherine and Edelgard dead either by my hands or in pursuit of my goals. There must be some way to make this world hold to peace and for me to hold tight to my friends.” 

“And you assume a simple change of students will ensure that?” Sothis wondered. 

“I have no other options. If this damned war continues to happen, then I shall continue to attempt to stop it until either I am successful in at the very least escaping the war with myself and the people I care for unscathed.” Byleth declared to herself. 

“Well, I am here to ensure you do just that as best I can.” Sothis offered. “But do try not to get caught in that same damned trap this time around, ok?” 

“I will not. I swear.” 

“Yes, that’s what you said the time before, and the time before that, and the time before that.” Sothis giggled in her mind, and Byleth, or at least the Byleth who watched instead of acted, couldn’t help but chuckle at the goddess’s antics. She was one of the few good parts of this damned repeating nightmare. 

She had watched every second of it, as she saw every day of every week of every month of the year play out before falling into the blackness, to awaken to a home plunged into chaos and then tear it apart even further in the name of peace. If she were to count the years of empty blackness, she would by her best estimate have been forced to sit through over 20 years of this same torturous cycle, with no end in sight. She had been forced to see Edelgard slaughtered on her knees in the throne room four times, each with another more sickening death for Catherine as well. The second time through, she watched Catherine fall to Dorothea’s magic, and in her rage had gone so far as to bury the sword of the creator to its hilt in the songstress’s stomach. The time after that, Catherine was cleaved open by Edelgard personally as Catherine had come to Byleth’s aid during the fight. The time after that, Catherine had managed to survive the battle itself, only for a stray arrow from a Knight of Seiros to bury itself in her eye socket. Even now, Byleth felt as if she had the blood that had splattered her face that moment sticking to her skin. 

“So, is the sudden change in weaponry unrelated, or am I simply missing something in that complex cobweb you call a brain?” Byleth sighed audibly. 

“No, that is not related, any more than it is to the simple passage of time. I’ve grown rather tired of simple sword combat. If I am damned to trudge through this war so many times, at the very least I can attempt to make some sort of variety.”

“Ah, I assumed you were finding enough variety in the various locations you diddled that knight of yours. I see that even that is beginning to grow stale, then.” Sothis cackled at the blush and eyeroll that earned from Byleth. 

“Must you be so vulgar?” Byleth heard herself think, and she began to wonder if this person was even her at all. Between the clothing, the weapons, and now the seeming distaste for profanity, Byleth thought she might as well be looking at someone else entirely. 

“Yes, you’re not the only one who grows bored, you know.” 

“Well please at least try to maintain some sort of decorum. For the record, there has been no ‘diddling’ what so ever. We’ve kissed a few times, that is all.” 

“Wow, I may not have much memory of the world when I lived in it, but I seem to remember that amount of ‘hands on’ activity constituting quite a bit more than just kissing.” Sothis taunted. 

“You are insufferable.” Byleth grumbled. 

“Me? You may have grown quite a bit regarding your ability to feel more than a slightly intelligent bolder with a large chest, but you’re still not exactly the most engaging host to interact with. Allow me my small respites.” 

“I suppose I have no way of stopping you.” Byleth heard herself think. 

“Exactly! Nor I you, so let us be bound in merriment at our mutual damnation!” 

“That does not sound like a merry sort of situation.” Byleth observed. 

“Well, I suppose that is your own issue to deal with then.” 

“Professor.” Byleth was snapped from her recollection, turning to see Dimitri walking alongside her. “You seem rather lost in thought, might I ask what is bothering you so?” The blonde nobleman asked, a sword at his hip and a lance on his back as he marched. 

“Nothing of much import, Dimitri. Simply recalling times long past with an old friend.” Byleth heard herself say, a snort of laughter from Sothis ringing in her ears as well. 

“Ah, that is good. I hope that those happy memories are just some of many.” Dimitri said, a smile on his face however never reaching his eyes.

“I do as well. Sadly, it seems there are occasions when fate decides otherwise.” 

“Ah, I see. I know that well. My family, father and mother both, were slaughtered in Duscar when I was but a child. Their memories are all I have of them, but in truth, the dead are never really gone.” Dimitri said, and with every word Byleth felt more and more emotion drain from his voice. 

“I suppose you are right, likely in more ways than you know.” 

Bernadetta and Dorothea were curled up together in their bed, the songstress holding Bernadetta in her arms so tight one would think she feared her partner might float away into the sky if not held firmly down to earth, neither of them was very tired, but they knew it was late, so they had readied for bed and now both laid there. In truth, Bernadetta appreciated the strength of Dorothea’s grip. 

She loved Dorothea, without a shadow of doubt, and the way she held her close made Bernadetta just a bit more reassured that she felt the same. Of course, Dorothea told her as much practically on the hour, and even when she didn’t say it with words, she found her ways to express it. 

There was the ways Dorothea pecked her cheek in the mornings when they first woke up, the way that she’d hum a little love song to herself every morning as they prepared for their days, and when she reached the chorus she would sometimes look at Bernadetta as she sung the cheesiest parts of the song. 

Bernadetta knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was loved, wholly and completely. The question was if she ever deserved it. Bernadetta looked at the spot on the bed where the third person would be laying, where she should be laying right now. There was so much that should be that wasn’t, and so much that was that she had no right to have. What right did she ever have to…

“Bellflower, you’re getting lost in your thoughts again.” Dorothea cooed, squeezing the smaller woman and pulling her from her thoughts. When had she started crying? 

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry Dorothea.” Bernadetta said, wiping her cheek with the sleeve of her nightgown, the soft violet lace brushing her skin, feeling cool to the touch. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweety. Do you want to talk about it?” Bernadetta shook her head, glad to be facing away from Dorothea. 

“It’s foolish. I should be better at controlling my emotions than this.” Bernadetta murmured. 

“Bernie-bear, your emotions aren’t a weakness to be controlled, they’re a part of you.” Dorothea lifted her hand to Bernadetta’s hair, petting her gently. “Is it about Petra?” Benradetta hesitated before nodding. 

“I miss her…” Bernadetta whimpered, meekly curling up in her partner’s arms, pulling the covers higher as if intent to hide in them. 

“I do too. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Dorothea assured. “She’ll be back soon, and we’ll be able to make up for all the lost time.” 

“But… but what if she never comes back?” Bernadetta asked. 

“Baby, come here.” Dorothea beaconed, gesturing for Bernadetta to turn over, which she did. Facing her now, Dorothea could see the red splotches on her partner’s skin from crying, and leaned in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, the remnants of the day's lipstick leaving an almost imperceptible little smudge against Bernie’s pale skin. “She’s going to come back.” 

“But… we don’t know that. It’s been months since her last letter.” Bernadetta whined. 

“She's going to come back.” Dorthea repeated. 

“How do you know?”

“Because she gave us her word, and if there is one thing our Petra never fails at, it’s keeping her word.” Bernadetta looked away, only for Dorothea to cup the side of her face, gently guiding her back to facing her. “You aren’t gonna go and call our Pea Flower a liar, are you?” Dorothea teased, drawing a slightly ashamed giggle from Bernadetta. 

“No.” 

“That’s good. I know it’s hard, my love, but please believe in her. That woman has moved mountains for her home, she won’t leave us behind.” 

“I know that…” Bernadetta said, but Dorothea could tell there was a part of that she wasn’t saying aloud. 

“She’s coming back for you as much as she is for me, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere without you.” Dorothea pulled Bernie close, running a hand up and down her spine, trying to sooth her partner. 

“Thank you…” 

“Of course, my sweet bellflower. Always. Now let’s try to get some rest, ok?” Bernadetta nodded from her place buried in the crook of Dorothea’s neck, and with a snap of her fingers the small candle on the bedside counter was put out by a wind spell. 

Catherine stood in one corner of Edelgard’s office, at the center of several mirrors, all angled around her to give the men working to finalize the tailoring of her new uniform all the views they needed. She felt like a damn animal on display, but kept her mouth shut. The fact she actually felt excited to be back in a proper uniform was rather confusing, but at the same time the blade hung from her waist by a cream colored sheath made her feel like she could take on the world. She wasn’t afraid of herself anymore, at least not as she had been. She had seen first hand that when given the opportunity, she would do the right thing. She was safe, at least for the others. With that, she knew she’d have to do everything in her power to keep the Eagles away from harm. This, well it was just one aspect of that. 

Whether or not the armor had been intentionally adapted to match the old color of her previous uniform, Catherine wasn’t sure, but it was nice in its familiarity. There was a heavy pair of cotton pants and an undershirt matching the color, and Catherine could see that with all her work in the garden, she hadn't seemed to lose much in the way of muscle. She had a pair of heavy steel boots, the greaves of which seemed to form into a sort of angle at the very front, ending in a sharp spike just above her knee. A Chainshirt was thrown overtop of the clothes, and it ended about midway down her thigh, where a pair of heavy steel cuisses sat, thick steel plates strapped around her legs to protect the largest portions at risk of strike. 

“I will say, Catherine, I am astounded to see you actually made it here at the proper time.” Hubert mused, stood beside Edelgard as the two looked over some nonsense about this or that noble lord threatening mutiny if they didn’t comply with some rubbish demand. 

“Hey, I’m as punctual as I want to be, Hubert.” Catherine shot back, lifting her arms at the order of the tailor. “Besides, it would be a little rude of me to not show up on time to my first day on the job, wouldn’t it?” 

“You say that as if it would be out of sorts for you.” Edelgard said, turning from her spot at the desk and chuckling at the guffaw of offense from Catherine. 

“Princess, you wound me.” Catherine said, mostly kidding. Hubert returned to the paper before them, rolling his eyes as he noticed it taking a moment longer for Edelgard to do the same. 

“So Ladislava is to leave soon, then?” Edelgard asked, receiving a nod of affirmation from her loyal advisor. 

“Yes.” Hubert said plainly. “She is in the process of collecting supplies, as best I’m able to tell, but she should return any minute now and be ready to deploy. She should be able to ensure that this… ‘miscommunication’ with the nobles to the north and ourselves are quickly rectified.” Hubert assured. 

“Good. Let us make quick work of it. I worry something might occur while I am away on diplomatic work if this trouble is allowed to rest.” Edelgard said, leaning back in her chair. 

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to send, like, a diplomat for that sort of thing, Princess?” Catherine asked, looking over her shoulder at Edelgard, noticing another twitch in Hubert’s face at the nickname. That just made Catherine smile. Some things really don’t change.

“You would do well to address the Emperor by proper title if you intend to keep your position long, miss Catherine.” Ladislava said, marching in the door, a large bag of supplies slung over her shoulder. 

“Well seeing how you are your crew were so stupendous at keeping Princess safe, and you still have a job, I figure I can sleep easy over a little nickname.” Catherine shot back, glaring at the woman and not even receiving a reply as the tailor and blacksmith began working on the chest piece. 

“Catherine, quiet.” Edelgard said, firmly. “We have been sending diplomats, particularly your friend Marianne, for almost a year now to negotiate with the Alliance, and it has come to a point where they may demand to speak to me directly. It is simple as that. Now, Ladislava, you had something to say?” 

“Lady Edelgard, I am ready to deploy as soon as you will allow. My team is already preparing their mounts.” Ladislava said politely. As she spoke, Catherine turned back to the mirror in front of her. The blacksmith had helped affix the last pieces of armor over her abdomen, chest and arms, and now the only parts of the shirt that could be seen was a few slivers of it in a joint here or there, and over top of her thighs, where the shirt split in the middle, and on either was embroidered the emblem of the newly reestablished Adrestian Royal Guard, an Adrestian double eagle in bright gold, against a red background in the shape of a shield, behind which two crossed swords sat. In the very center, however, Catherine saw a familiar symbol. The Crest of Seiros. 

“No. Fuck no, get this shit off of me.” Catherine said, stepping off of the pedestal and out of both the tailor and the blacksmith’s grasp, tearing at the strap of the chestpiece like a caged animal trying to escape. 

“Catherine, what in the name of the goddess is wrong with you?!” Hubert asked, running forward, his hand raised to stop her. 

“I’m not wearing anything with that crest on it.” Catherine said, bitingly, not quite realizing how bitter it came across, and she continued on, trying to undo the unfamiliar armor. “I’m never wearing that fucking crest again. Aint the whole damn point of everyone dying out there supposed to be about getting rid of these things?!” 

“Catherine, I understand wearing a crest may seem antithetical to our mission, but it is how it has to be done.” Hubert said, not quite knowing what Catherine was so bothered by. 

“That crest is a part of the Adrestian banner. Wearing it is a sign of loyalty to the Adrestian Empire. It would be wise of you to not challenge it unless you would want that loyalty questioned.” Ladislava said bluntly. Catherine shot her a glare. 

“Well I’m not fucking loyal to the ‘Adrestian Empire’ so you can take your crest and shove it.” Ladislava looked shocked, and Hubert confused, so Catherine continued on to clarify. “I’m loyal to precisely one fucking thing, and that is keeping that one” Catherine pointed to Edelgard. “alive and well. This whole damned country can burn to the fucking ground for all I care, but as long as her and the Eagles stay alive that’s fine by me. I’ll do that with or without the fucking title, but I’ll be damned if I wear that woman’s mark on me ever again!” Catherine realized a moment too late how that would sound to the others, but before she could think of a way to dig herself out of the hole she’d dug, Edelgard spoke up. 

“Innestus, sir, did you prepare the shoulder adornment as I requested?” The tailor nodded. “Wonderful. Please take a moment and see about covering the crest in the armor with red embroidery, use the same thread as you did for the seams on the adornment.” Innestus gave a nod of affirmation. “Thank you, sir.” She waved Catherine off, and the knight returned to the pedestal. 

“Lady Edelgard…” Ladislava began, but she went silent as Edelgard raised her hand. 

“Ladislava, we have burned tradition to the ground with this war, we might as well throw formality with it. That will be all. You may deploy immediately.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Ladislava said, bowing before stepping out. Hubert looked between Catherine and Edelgard, knowing there was something he was missing, but thinking better than to ask. 

“I assume there will be no more need of me, then?” Hubert asked. Edelgard nodded, and he stepped out, following Ladislava out of the room.

Soon enough, the blacksmith and tailor finished, and began to leave. Innestus, as he was walking out, laid a small bundle of red fabric on the desk before Edelgard, a golden pin holding it together. Before Edelgard could clarify that the adornment had not been for her, he had already left, and the room was empty except for the emperor and her bodyguard. Catherine stood, looking down at herself, her shoulders, hands and forearms adorned in heavy steel while her elbows and forearms were covered with chainmail. She clenched her hand in and out of a fist, taking a deep breath as she spoke up. 

“I… I’m sorry I lost my cool there.” She said, turning toward her. “Thank you, Edelgard.” Edelgard waved it off. 

“This time it was nothing to fret over. But work better to contain it when we are among company. Outbursts like that, while understandable, can be seen as an opening for attack by our enemies.” Edelgard stood from her desk, grabbing the small bundle off of the counter and walking to Catherine. “I had hoped Innestus would have put this in place, but I suppose he must have misunderstood me, and thought I asked him to make this for myself.” Edelgard said quietly. She held the bundle up. “May I?” Catherine nodded, if a bit confused, and Edelgard undid the pin sticking the two pieces between her teeth to hold them in place as she draped the fabric over one of Catherine’s shoulders, pulling the two edges together right above her heart. The pin, shaped in the same style of sword and shield as those adorning her armor, was put in place holding the two ends together, and Catherine realized it was a sort of half-cape, not too dissimilar from the one she had worn before. “There is a mirror, on the wall over there if you want to examine it.” Catherine nodded, walking to it and looking herself over. 

Her face still looked so unfamiliar, with the scar and her hair as short as it was, but she saw herself there for the first time in years. She turned, looking over her shoulder at the heavy red fabric, and saw, in thick black chord, the embroidered outline of an eagle’s wing. 

“I hope it is not too cumbersome.” Edelgard commented, almost sounding nervous. “I had thought it would be a way to make the armor more… your own. As well as marking you as a member of the Black Eagle Strike Force, officially.” 

“Wow… thank you.” They stood there, in an awkward silence, until the thunderous gurgling of Edelgard’s stomach filled the room, shortly followed by Catherine's laughter ”Holy hell, Princess, when did you last eat? Come on, they should be serving lunch soon, and you’ve done enough bullshit for the morning. Mercedes and Flayn should be bringing some sweetbreads to lunch today. I know those are your favorite.” Catherine said, moving toward the door. Edelgard looked as if she were about to argue, but Catherine's final comment, while her back was to the Emperor, made her refrain.

“You know, for being ostensibly under my command, you seem to order me around rather often.” Edelgard remarked, walking beside Catherine. 

“What can I say, it’s just my style.” Catherine said, flashing that smug grin that seemed to have come so naturally before. It came easier to her now, but not as much as it had once been. 

“Well look who it is!” Caspar called, as the table turned to look at Edelgard, stood in her long red gown and her spiked crown, Catherine beside her. 

“Caspar, don’t be rude.” Dorothea chided, earning a grumble from the young man as she turned and stood to meet her friend. “Edelgard, I’m glad to see you. I heard about what happened last night, and was going to come look for you to check in if I didn’t run into you.” 

“I am fine, Dorothea. your worries are appreciated but unwarranted.” Edelgard said, patting the songstress on her upper arm. 

“I’d say unwarranted might be an improper word, from the amount of bodies they had to drag out of that room last night.” Ashe said, quietly staring into her bowl of soup, refusing to meet Catherine’s eyes, although Catherine was doing about as much work to avoid Ashe’s as well. 

“Well, then I suppose that should make us all the more happy that you’re well after that ordeal. I do hope you're at least taking it easy after a night like that.” Dorothea inquired. 

“I am.” Edelgard reassured. 

“No, she is not.” Catherine rolled her eyes at the glare that earned her from Edelgard. Dorothea gave her a strange look, not a glare, but not quite friendly. 

“Well, we will just have to change that!” Flayn said, appearing as if from thin air beside Catherine, Mercedes in tow. Both women carried small baskets covered in linen towels, reaching in past the linen, they began pulling still-warm sweets out, handing them to those scattered around the table. 

“Holy damn, thanks ladies!” Leonie said, taking two and handing one to Ashe. The silver haired woman took it, and bit in, finding the tart taste of raspberry mixed with lemon and sugar. 

“It’s not a problem, really.” Mercedes said, handing a sweet to Dorothea, along with three or four more wrapped in linen. “For Bernadetta. Send her my best.” Mercedes whispered, however not well enough to avoid being heard by a few scattered others. 

“What is the matter with Bernadetta?” Ashe and Catherine both asked in unison, looking over and meeting each other's eyes before quickly looking away. Catherine kept speaking. “Is, uh, is she ill?”

“She is fine. Perhaps if you spent more time paying attention to those around you, Catherine, you’d have noticed she has just been a bit… down, as of late. It’s approaching one year, since Petra left for Brigid, and it’s been hard on her as the date approaches.” Dorothea’s words had started irritated, but ended concerned. 

“Has there been any word from her?” Leonie asked, picking at her sweetbread. Dorothea just shook her head. 

“It’s been months. The last we heard, she said something about going to connect with a sect of Brigid fighters that had been stationed out of one of the more remote coasts, trying to incite them to join the fight. She had said it may take some time, but I worry something might have happened to her.” Dorothea grew quiet, and the whole table seemed to follow her into an awkward tension. “I’ll see you all at the meeting tomorrow.” Dorothea said, looking at the ground as she turned to walk to the door. 

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go sneaking off back to your office or I swear I will drag you back here.” Catherine whispered to Edelgard as she marched on after Dorothea. 

“Well that was awkward.” Caspar said through a mouth full of sweetbread. “OW!” He exclaimed as Leonie smacked him in the back of the head. 

“Shut up, Caspar.” Leonie ordered. Edelgard returned a moment later with a plate of salad and chicken and began eating. 

“So, how did things go with the healing magic last night?!” Flayn asked, plopping into the seat beside Edelgard. 

“Oh…” Edelgard coughed, nearly choking on a piece of chicken from the surprise. Once she had cleared her throat, she turned to face the woman beside her. “It went very well. I found myself rather drained, last night however. I slept through the entire night for the first time in ages, and that only happens when I’m beyond exhausted.” Flayn looked at her, curious. 

“That’s odd. Those wounds were deep, but nothing that should have drained you that much.” She shrugged. “Perhaps it was just a bit worse than I had thought. But I’m very proud of you! I haven’t seen such quick taking to healing magic in decades!” It was Edelgard’s turn to be curious, it would appear, as she realized what Flayn had said.

“Um… Flayn how old are you?” Leonie asked, almost afraid of the answer. Flayn pondered the thought for longer than it should ever take a person to do that math. 

“I believe the last time I tried to do the math, it was a little over… a millenia.” Flayn said, and while everyone around the table wanted to laugh and take it as a sort of joke, the guilt in her voice made them realize that not only was she telling the truth, she’d clearly been holding onto it for a while. 

“You’re… you’re teasing, aren’t you Flayn?” Mercedes asked. 

“I… I’m not. I thought you all had, well, put it together by now. My aunt, Rhea… she is Seiros. The same Seiros that founded the church centuries ago. My Father is Saint Cichol.” 

“But wait, that would mean you’re…” Mercedes began, the entire rest of the table doing everything in their power to not be noticed, Caspar going so far as to lean over in his bench seat, hiding behind the table.. 

“I’m Flayn, Mercy. As I always have been. But yes, at one point... I went by the name Cethleann.” The entire table was silent, save for Mercedes clothing rustling as she stood, walking off wordlessly. 

“You’re… you’re Saint Cethleann?” Leonie asked, looking the woman over. Flayn nodded, looking over her shoulder nervously as she watched Mercedes walk out of the room. 

“Holy shit.” Ashe said quietly. 

“I’m sorry. I… I thought you all had realized by now.” Flayn said, tears in her eyes. 

“Then why is this the first time you’ve mentioned it?” Leonie asked, not angry, but clearly not believing her. 

“I, goddess, I need to go find Mercy.” Flayn said, practically knocking the seat over as she ran from the room after her. 

“I just wanted to eat lunch.” Ashe said, staring at her soup. 

“Did you know about this?!” Leonie asked Edelgard, who simply sat there, picking at her salad. 

“I suppose I had my theories about it after the ball during the school year. But I had no verification until now, no.” Edelgard said plainly. 

“Dorothea! Wait!” Catherine called, running up as Dorothea sighed and stopped in place, turning to face her in front of the entrance to the dormitory. 

“What, Catherine?” The songstress said, arms crossed, the bundle of sweets in her hand. 

“I wanted to ask if I could help. You and Bernadetta, you know, with everything you all are going through.” Catherine offered, her response clearly showing she hadn’t thought very far ahead when she’d ran after Dorothea. 

“Why?” Dorothea asked. 

“Because I know how awful it is not knowing anything about where your partner is, if they’re ok or if they’re… not. And, well damn it, because I’ve been a shit friend, and I want to show you I am trying to learn to be better at that.” Catherine confessed, shrugging a bit, as if to say ‘that’s all I have’. Dorothea sighed, shaking her head. 

“It’s not that easy, Catherine. You can’t just walk in and try to be a good friend after six months of being an asshole to everyone, and then try being all buddy-buddy again as if nothing happened. You’ve been better then you were, yes, but I have seen you ‘be better’ one too many times to think it will last.” Dorothea looked up, tears in the corner of her eyes. “I tried to give you a shot to be a good friend, and you treated me like dirt. I’m not one to forget something like that. I forgave you for that little incident in that hallway, but I’ve seen you be an absolute asshole to my face twice now. I’m not a vengeful person, but I’m also not one to ignore when someone shows me who they are.” 

“I’m sorry.” Catherine said, shrugging. “I don’t have any excuse. I… I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I was trying to keep everyone safe… But I just ended up hurting everyone I told myself I was helping.” 

“What are you even talking about, Catherine?” Dorothea asked, confused beyond all regard. “Protecting us from what?” Catherine’s first instinct, as it had been for months, was to retreat, wave away what she had said and run for the hills. But she felt so exhausted from holding everything inside of herself. She felt guilty, as if she were trying to excuse herself by telling Dorothea what had happened, but she didn’t want Dorothea to forget what she had done, she just wanted her to know that it hadn’t just been for the sake of being a bastard. So, Catherine held herself steady, and hoped that this would go no worse than it had with Edelgard. It had felt nice, then, to finally talk to someone. 

“From me. From Rhea, from what Rhea made me do..” Dorothea recognized something in the way Catherine said those words. “I think deep down I was just trying to push everyone away so that I could try to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Catherine… did…” 

“Can… can we not talk about this here?” Catherine asked. 

For the next while, the two were sat on a flowerbed in the greenhouse, as Catherine told Dorothea everything she had told Edelgard, including the ‘plan’ she had developed when Edelgard told her she would be joining them all in the Monastery. There was a long while of silence after that, where Dorothea seemed to try and parse everything. Catherine was so tired of holding everything inside her, that being able to tell the people she cared about,while not easy, felt like something worth doing. The flower bed in the far corner was still barren.

Flayn, having exhausted every other place she could think to look, found herself knocking on the door to the empty medical bay, entering into the quiet room as she called for Mercedes. She found the woman sitting on a cot, her hands in her lap as she seemed to play with her skirt, mind miles away. 

“Mercy…” Flayn asked, walking over to the cot, but remaining standing, looking over at her friend. “Are you ok?” Mercedes bit her cheek, looking up at Flayn and struggling for words for a moment. 

“I don’t really know, Flayn… Cethleann.”

“Please, don’t call me that.” Flayn begged, one hand clutching her own elbow as she looked away. “That name was little more than a title of war. Just like Serios, or Cichol. I have tried very hard to distance myself from all three of them.” 

“Is that why you never told me that it was you I was praying to since this horrid war began, begging for guidance and protection?” Mercedes asked, and Flayn went a bit red at the memory. 

“I… no. It isn’t.” 

“Then why?” Mercedes asked, somehow keeping her voice even as a tear trickled down her cheek. “Why would you hide something like this from me? Do you not trust me?” 

“No! Mercy it’s nothing like that.” 

“Then what was it? What were you so afraid of?” 

“This!” Flayn exclaimed, vaguely gestured to the situation they were in. “It was this, because I knew this was how it would go. Everything would change, everyone would get so strange about it, and we have both worked so hard to build our lives anew, away from the church, that the thought of this horrid thing raising the few good things, my few good ties that I had left… it was terrifying. I have stared down war and death and destruction unparalleled before or since, but the thought of losing all of you… of losing you to my own title that I never even chose to take was too frightening even for me.” Flayn confessed, wiping her cheek dry with the sleeve of her gown. Mercedes seemed to ponder for a long while, leaving the two in silence save the occasional stuttered breath. 

“I… is that why you shy away from my touch?” Mercedes seemed to have either ignored or moved on from Flayn’s previous statement, looking up at the short immortal woman with fear and shame in her eyes. “Was I just not worthy?” Flayn’s heart utterly broke as Mercedes rambled on. “I always thought you just didn’t want me. I suppose it makes as much sense. Why would you… No one else does. My own father sees me as little more than a bartering chip, and my own brother didn’t even care enough to come back.” 

“Mercedes, no…” Flayn began, reaching out, but hesitating before she could rest her hand on Mercedes’ cheek. 

“Even now, you stay away…” Mercedes mutters to herself, looking away. “I miss your touch, Flayn. I have missed it more than even I realized. I feel such a fool, having fallen so hard and yet so hopelessly, even when I knew we needed to focus on ourselves. I’m such a fool.” Mercedes whimpered weakly, as if she had forgotten flayn was there. But she never could forget that, could she? 

“Mercy…” Flayn was dumbstruck. Had Mercedes meant what she said in the way she wanted it to? Flayn dropped to her knees before Mercedes, her head bowed and her hands bunched in the fabric of her own skirt as she spoke. “It’s nothing like that. It is nothing at fault with you but with me, it has always been me. I’m dangerous, just like my aunt is. I’ve seen what damage a touch with the sort of power my kind has can do to people who get too close, and all I have wanted to do is to spare you that risk. It’s not you that is unworthy… It’s me. I’m a monster, old bone and rotted flesh tainted by a vile bloodline.” Flayn wrapped her arms around herself, bunching the fabric up in her hands as if clutching her own shoulders for stability. “I have stared down wars more bloody than anything we’ve seen thus far, and none of them scared me as much as the thought of hurting you, of losing you, or of keeping you here when you didn’t want to be.” 

“Flayn, I want to be here. I’ve wanted to be here with you since I met you.” Mercedes confessed, her mind a mess of fear, doubt, and longing. “Please… can I touch you?” Flayn looked up, meeting Mercedes’ eyes and leaving the two inches apart. She looked nervous, hesitant, but not for her own sake. “I’m not afraid of you, Flayn. Whatever you worry you’ll do, I know I can trust you. Please…” 

Flayn nodded, and slowly Mercedes hand inched forward, cupping Flayn’s cheek and running one thumb gently along the curve of her cheekbone. There was electricity in the touch that sent a shiver down Flayn’s spine, and soon enough her own hand was up, on top of mercedes’ as she savored the feeling of the woman’s touch against her skin. She had missed it so much, and now that she felt it again it was like she had been starved then made ravenous for it. Flayn’s unoccupied hand moved as if possessed and clutched at Mercedes’ blouse, pressing her forehead against Mercedes’. 

“I’m sorry, for not telling you… for being such a fool.” Flayn whispered. 

“You don’t need to be sorry, Flayn.” Mercedes took both sides of Flayn’s face in her hands, leaning back just a bit to look at her. “Just please… don’t let me go.” 

“Never.” Flayn said, feeling Mercedes’ hands guide her forward, and in an instant they were kissing, lips pressed together as they tried to take in as much of each other as they could. 

Flayn had never been the most experienced, physically speaking, but she found Mercedes to be rather skillful at taking the lead. She paused, ensuring Flayn was comfortable with where they were, and asked if Flayn wanted to join her on the cot. Neither were really thinking of the world outside the doors, and Flayn found she couldn’t say yes fast enough. She crawled up, positioning herself beside the taller blonde and returning their lips to their proper positions, smashing against each other. Flayn kept her grip on Mercedes blouse, the other hand having moved to the back of Mercedes’ neck, pulling her in more. Mercedes seemed more than happy to oblige. They stayed there, locked together, for some time before Flayn felt Mercedes’ hand move, bracing against her stomach and pushing herself back. 

“Can I touch more?” Mercedes asked, panting for air. 

“Are you sure you want to?” Flayn asked, flashes of what she had seen in Catherine’s mind filling her with fear. But Mercedes simply nodded, chewing on her lower lip and leaning forward, till her lips tickled Flayn’s ear. 

“More than I have ever wanted for anything before.” Mercedes whispered, and whether it was the bare, unrepressed desire in her voice, or the way her breath tickled Flayn’s neck that caused another bolt of lightning through her body, Flayn did not know. All she did know was that she was biting back a moan and nodding voraciously, just shy of begging Mercedes for more. Mercedes found a balance in their new position, herself situated on her knees rather perfectly between Flayn’s legs, leaning over top of the green haired woman, and set out on her exploration. 

Her hands slid over Flayn’s body slowly, starting from her shoulders, down her arms and back up, until moving down her midsection, tracing every curve and bump with the most delicate touch. She had pulled her hands away when Flayn gasped as her hands brushed her chest, but after another moment of reassurance, which is merely a polite way to refer to Flayn letting out a rather desperate whimper, she was right back against the saint, hands cupping her partner’s chest and teasing the very peak of each with her fingertips. 

The gasped moans and the way Mercedes felt Flayn’s face bury into the crook of her neck to suppress them was utterly intoxicating after having spent so long without feeling the woman’s embrace. Although an embrace of the nature they were in now was something beyond even Mercedes’ wildest dreams before this war had begun. Now? She just wanted to hold Flayn close and never let go, and by the way Flayn hugged her close as Mercedes slid one of her hand’s down, lightly caressing the outer edge of Flayn’s thigh, it seemed the green-haired woman wasn’t intent on letting go any time soon either. 

Mercedes leaned down, brushing her lips against Flayn’s neck, smiling to herself as she felt Flayn shudder beneath her. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Mercedes asked, wincing with pain as Flayn shook her head no, inadvertently smacking her head against Mercedes’. 

“S… sorry.” Flayn said with a soft giggle, Mercedes laughed, resting her forehead on Flayn’s shoulder and holding herself up with one hand on the edge of the cot. 

“It’s ok, Flayn.” Mercedes assured, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Are you sure you want to keep going?” 

“Yes, goddess, please.” Flayn felt a blush creep up her cheeks, a little embarrassed at how desperate her voice came across, but the blush only grew worse when Mercedes giggled. 

“You’re so beautiful when you beg. Although you’ve always been beautiful.” Mercedes said quietly, pressing another kiss to her neck as Flayn felt her hand slip between her legs. “Tell me if you need me to stop, ok?” 

“Yes, I… I will.” Flayn said, her mind more focused on the sensation of Mercedes’ fingers moving farther and farther up her skirt, as the anticipation sent every inch of her body into a frenzy. When Mercedes finally felt her fingertip brush against the lightest trace of wet lace, she could feel Flayn’s entire body twitch underneath her. 

Mercedes took her time teasing Flayn through the fabric, listening as her moans grew louder and quieter, until she found the spots that made her moan the loudest. She hooked her thumb under the edge of Flayn’s underwear, sliding it aside with ease as she brushed her fingertips against Flayn’s lips, wetting them before raising them up to the sensitive bud above. She planted soft pecks along Flayn’s collarbone as her fingers traced soft circles around her clit. 

“Mercy… more, please.” Flayn pleaded, her fingers clutching at the fabric of her partner’s shawl. She felt the fingers between her legs moving faster, drawing a sharp gasp from her, but a moment later they slowed back to their original pace, and Flayn could only whimper. “No… Please, more.” 

“Then don’t quit begging.” Mercedes' voice was a horse whisper, her lips drawn in a wicked grin as she felt Flayn slowly coming unwound beneath her, the sheer bliss of the moment allowing her to be more bold then she had been in the last year combined. “Tell me what you need, what you want, and do not stop until you can’t speak anymore.’ Mercedes instructed, the smile on her face only growing larger as she heard Flayn’s voice again. 

“Please… faster, I need it faster. I need you, Mercedes. Your fingers, your lips, all of you. I need you, I’ve needed you for so long.” Every word Flayn spoke flowed like a sweet liquor to Mercedes’ head, and she was more than happy to comply with the smaller woman’s demands. As her fingers sped up, pressing just a bit more firmly against the sensitive bud, Flayn’s words seemed to devolve into gasped exclamations and moans, until finally, with a sharp cry, Mercedes felt Flayn shudder and tense, just shy of screaming into the fabric of Mercedes’ shawl before collapsing back onto the cot, gasping for air. 

“Good girl.” Mercedes whispered, placing a final kiss on Flayn’s lips, pulling back and quickly licking her slick fingers clean, before curling up beside Flayn on the cot, wrapping one arm around her midsection and pulling the woman tight against her. Flayn happily scooted back, trying to get as close as she could to Mercy without shoving her off of the cot. 

A while later, Manuela walked into the medical bay, not paying much attention as she moved toward her desk until she caught sight of the two young women curled up together on the cot. She was about to wake them, and ask exactly what they were doing sleeping there, when the slightest hint of scent in the air answered the question for her. Manuela rolled her eyes, turning and leaving before the two could wake up on their own. 

“Great.” She muttered to herself once the door to the medical bay was closed behind her. “The damned nun is getting more action then I am. Terrific. Ladislava better return from that deployment soon or I swear I will break her damned bed.” 

“You certainly took your time.” Edelgard said as Catherine plopped into the seat across from her, a plate full of food in hand. 

“Just needed to check in with Dorothea.” Catherine said, shoveling a spoon full of stew into her mouth. 

“Is that why your cheeks are red and your eyes are puffy?” Edelgard made sure her voice was little more than a whisper, just enough to be heard by Catherine. The bodyguard laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah it is. Nothing gets past you, Princess.” Catherine took another bite of her meal. “I uh… I told her, about everything.” Edelgard looked a bit surprised. 

“So soon? You only told me yesterday.” 

“Shit, has it really only been that long? It’s been a long day, I guess.” Catherine said with a shrug, her half-cape rustling a bit. “But I mean, she deserved to at least have some context. Plus, I’m just kind of tired of holding onto it all…” Catherine muttered. 

“I understand how that can feel.” Edelgard said, looking up from her own plate. “After… everything that happened to my family, it was only Hubert and my father who I could confide in, and my father had his own burdens to bear.” Edelgard bit her cheek, a weary smile crossing her face. “Telling Byleth, and you, and the strike force… it felt like a weight off of my chest.” 

“I’m glad I could help.” Catherine said, awkwardly tapping her spoon against the rim of her bowl. 

“So, what came of your little chat with Dorothea?” Edelgard asked. 

“Well, tomorrow before dinner I’m going to have to take some time to show Bernadetta around the greenhouse.” 

“Really?” Edelgard asked. “I didn’t think she was the type.” 

“Yeah, well a year ago I would have said the same about me. But Dorothea thinks it’ll do her good, give her something outside of missions to focus on. Since I’m going to be a lot more busy making sure you live to see Letty again, I figured having her help when I can’t keep up the workload wouldn’t be too bad either.” Catherine said, chucking at the eyeroll Edelgard gave her in response.

“I apologize to be such a bother as to distract you from your gardening, Catherine. If I am not mistaken, it was you who demanded this job.” 

“It ain’t a complaint.” Catherine corrected. “It’s just a fact. Between your sleeping habits, your eating habits, and your enemies, my ass is gonna be busy keeping you alive and well. Now, eat up. I’m sure Hubert has some bullshit lined up for you.” Catherine said, pointing to the last of Edelgard’s meal. 

“Oh he certainly does. A minor lord who defected from western Faerghus is pitching a fit over us not allowing him to horde his supplies, and now he is threatening mutiny.” 

“Is this the same guy you were talking about this morning? The one Ladislava got sent after?” 

“No.” Edelgard said, resting her chin in her hand. “It is an entirely different whiny nobleman. Of which there appear to be far too many.” 

“I mean, that’s why you’re doing all this, right? What’s the guy’s name?” Catherine asked, earning a raised eyebrow. “Humor me, Princess.” 

“Jackson, he is a minor lord under the banner of…” 

“House Gautier, yeah I know him.” Catherine said, cutting Edelgard off. “The guy is all talk. He and another minor lord were bickering and raised troops against each other the year before last, and me and my team wiped his best men and sellswords out in a day or two.” 

“Well, that will certainly be a good bargaining chip at our disposal.” Edelgard said. 

“Oh believe me, I have plenty. You learn a lot on deployment if you know when to listen.” 

“Just try not to disrupt the negotiations, please.” Edelgard asked. 

“Fine, Princess, I won’t.” 

In all fairness, Catherine did try her best to simply stand in the corner, sword held out in front of her with its tip buried into the floor and her back to the wall, doing her best impression of a pissed off statue to dissuade Lord Jackson from attempting anything less-than-savory. However, it was still Catherine, and after nearly four hours of the prat bickering back and forth with Hubert and Edelgard, Catherine only had so much will power. 

“Lord Jackson, I implore you to cease this nonsense and see reason.” Hubert said, his hair having become somewhat disheveled over the course of the infuriating back-and-forth. 

“And I am telling you to do the same, boy!” The bulbous old man said, slamming his fist on the table between them. “I have a reputation amongst my peers to uphold, and that reputation will not survive if I’m seen handing out silos of grain like copper coins to street beggars! I have worked hard to maintain my land and collect those supplies, I see no reason why I should risk my own destitution for the sake of some prattling lazabouts!” 

“Sir, I would thank you kindly to not speak of the Adrestian army now responsible for the protection of your territory as ‘lazabouts’.” Edelgard said, firmly. 

“Oh to hell with ‘protecting my territory’, girl! The men are nowhere near my territory! I only ever see them when they come to harass me for my hard-earned foodstuffs.” Lord Jackson lambasted. 

“Lord Jackson, do not refer to the Emperor as ‘girl’ or anything other then ‘Your Majesty’ again, am I understood?” Hubert ordered.

“Fine, you twiggy little poof.” Jackson spit toward Hubert, who was clearly at his wits end. “But I’m not goin’ to be giving up any of my hard earned supplies for some men who never do squat to protect my land.” 

“You seem to forget that we are in a war, Lord Jackson, the men have better things to do than guard your livestock from bears and wolves.” Edelgard said, tritely. 

“Well, then I have better things to do with my stores than give them away and risk poverty and the destruction of my family’s good reputation.” Jackson said, leaning back and crossing his arms. 

“Lady Edelgard, If I might borrow a minute of Marquis Vestra’s time.” Catherine said, all three others in the room looking to her as she bid the tall man toward her. He walked over, leaning in and listening as Catherine whispered something in his ear that neither Edelgard nor Lord Jackson could hear. 

“Sir Charon. It’s been some time since I’ve seen your sorry excuse for a profile.” Jackson said, glaring at Catherine. “I wonder what your Father would say where he to see his sorry excuse for a son as some hound of the Emperor’s.” Edelgard slammed her fist on the table, the heavy steel of her crimson gauntlet denting the wood. 

“Lord Jackson, I would remind you that you have sworn your fealty to that same ‘Emperor’, and are in fact sitting in her presence. Do not disrespect myself or those in my service again, or I will respond accordingly.” Lord Jackson clearly paid the threat no mind, waving it off as Hubert turned again. He had a grin that almost looked impressed, and the very sight of it put fear into Jackson’s heart. Where Edelgard being honest, it put fear in her own as well. Hubert moved to stand at one end of the table, to the left of Edelgard and the right of Jackson. 

“You speak very highly of your ‘reputation’, Lord Jackson. Let me ensure I have the general tone of your status among the northern territories understood well. You’re a fine, upstanding man, are you not? Honest? Loyal? A devout follower of the goddess?” The lord’s eyes narrowed as he looked Hubert up and down. 

“Yes, you have it about right, boy.” 

“Well, a reputation like that certainly would be easy to tarnish, wouldn’t it? So it is understandable for you to be hesitant to risk that status. ” Hubert seemed almost understanding, as if he could relate to the man, earning an inquisitive look from the two at the table. 

“Yes, exactly.” Lord Jackson said, plainly. 

“Well, then it certainly would be utterly disastrous were it to be let slip that you’ve been bedding your head maid for the past four years, now wouldn’t it?” Lord Jackson’s eyes went wide as the moon, his jaw dropping as Hubert almost seemed giddy to watch the man crack. 

“W...what kind of ridiculous slander!” Lord Jackson began. 

“Oh Jacky, we both know it’s nothing but a sad truth.” Catherine piped up from her corner of the room, silver longsword slung over her shoulder and a mile-wide grin on her cheeks. 

“I’m sure an intelligent man such as yourself can see that whatever damage ‘giving away your hard earned grain’ might do is absolutely nothing compared to what we could do if you insist on remaining so stubborn about this.” Hubert said. Jackson glowered at him and Catherine, but the math was already done in his head. 

“Fine. I’ll relinquish a portion of my supply, but not a word is to be said on this matter ever again!” 

“Of course not.” Hubert said. “Now, please, let me escort you back to your carriage, and we’ll send you on your way.” 

Jackson stood, walking after Hubert, leaving just Edelgard and Catherine alone. 

“How in the name of the goddess…” Edelgard began, looking over to her bodyguard, a cheeky smile on her face. 

“I told you, if you know who to listen to when you’re out on deployment, you can learn a lot.” Edelgard looked at her, not buying a word of it. Catherine rolled her eyes. “Fucking hell, fine, I slept with one of the newer maids when we were passing through the guys territory 3 or 4 years ago, and found that out from her. Are you happy?” 

“No, in fact I’d have rather not known that.” Edelgard said, half joking. 

“You’re the one who asked.” 

“Yes, that is, unfortunately, true.” Edelgard said. “But, the information was useful, so I suppose it all evens the scales, so to speak.” Edelgard said, chuckling to herself as she shook her head. In the distance, the bell tolled 6 pm. 

“Sounds like it’s getting to be dinner time.” Catherine said, looking to the setting sun in the distance. 

“Let me guess, you intend to drag me down for dinner, as well.” Edelgard said, bemused as she stood and moved to her desk. 

“Nope.” Catherine said with a tired shrug. “I figure dragging you to one meal today is enough.” Edelgard looked at her. 

“Thank you for that. I have much to catch up on, and little time to do so.” Edelgard said, pulling a pen from nearby and quickly getting to work on a stack of documents. 

“Of course.” Catherine said, pulling up a chair beside the desk, resting her hands on the hilt of her sheathed sword as she crossed one leg over the other, eyes firmly locked on the door. “But you know... I might just have an idea where I might be able to get some of those raspberries Flayn and Mercedes used for their sweetbreads this morning, and I have a recipe for raspberry jam that I think might be right up your alley,.” That piqued Edelgard’s interest. “Plus, if i’m not mistaken, we had planned on doing our little late night cooking adventure tonight, instead of last night. Goddess knows, I would hate to break my word on something like that.” Catherine’s slick grin drew a tired eye roll from Edelgard, but the smile on her face was impossible to miss, even to Hubert as he stood, peering through the crack in the slightly open door. 

“Hmmm, you don’t say?” Hubert heard Edelgard begin. “I do seem to remember that as well. Let me try to at least get some work done, and then once the dining hall is clear we can see about trying this recipe of yours.” 

“Sounds good to me, Princess.” Catherine said. 

Hubert chewed his cheek as he walked away, hand clasped behind his back. While he was not one to base a rating of success or failure on a single day, he was pleasantly surprised by Catherine’s first day as Royal Guard. He had heard Lady Edelgard’s return to her bedchamber at an appropriate hour the night before, as well as seeing her eat at lunch among her peers. He was hopeful, if cautiously, that Catherine might be able to help alleviate Edelgard’s dread enough that she might be able to find a bit more balance between her duties as Emperor, and her own self-maintenance. Whether that be from her similarity to the Professor, or another sort of reason, he neither knew, nor did he care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK SO YEAH A FUCKING LOT HAPPENED THERE RIGHT?!?!! Like I definitely am curious to see how yall like this update, cus I feel like I've shown pretty much my hand for how shit is gonna go with these two, and I really hope yall are along for this very very corny lesbian romance bullshit. 
> 
> Also! The nun fucks! Mercedes being a bigtime dom is one of my favorite headcanons that's just become canon, and I'm hopeful her fucking the saint will make the gays happy. 
> 
> Also, if i'm not mistaken this puts me in the top 10 longest fics in the FETH tag, and I think the longest fic in the wlw category if i've done my math correctly, so like, HOLY SHIT. I really am excited to get yall's feedback on this chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed it! don't hesitate to comment, and I'll repeat about the 3h gay trans zine: Somewhere to Belong: A trans wlw/mlm relationship zine, it’s @3hTransZine on Twitter! If yall could, going to check out the twitter and fill out the interest check would be hella hella appreciated, and I thank you all!
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage and check out Somewhere to Belong, a FETH Trans wlw/mlm zine @3HTransZine


	29. Chapter 29.5: Guilt Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hell no. Have you seen what that woman can do on the battlefield? She even scares Jeritza, I’m terrified of her.” Catherine admitted that fear without a hint of hesitation or comedy. 
> 
> “Really? You’re afraid of a woman who is shorter than even me?” Edelgard asked, resting her hands on her hips as she raised a brow at the woman. 
> 
> “Hey, if it’s any consolation, you scare the hell out of me too. You short people are all scary. How can you store so much hatred in so little space?” Catherine laughed as she saw the incredulous expression across Edelgard’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, this week has been hella stressful, and really sapping my energy, so this week and next we're getting smaller half-chapters so I can try and rest a bit and recover. I have a system, as I've said before, where I write several chapters ahead of where we are in-story, keeping that backlog helps ensure that I can keep consistent and quality content coming yalls way, and because of the way the world has been lately, I've had to dip into it and depleate it faster then replenish it, so I'm gonna try to use this time to 'restock' which means I need to slow my usage just for this update and the next. I'm sorry to have to do it, but a lot of shit hit me all at once and I'm just trying to manage a good balance. I debated about giving yall the full update this week and taking a week off, but I wanna give you all consistent updates, so I figured this was a good compromise. I really hope that's ok, and I hope yall can appreciate the first half of Chapter 29: Guilt. 
> 
> Also: We are now officially the longest F/F fanfic in the FETH tag, and we've reached the top 10 longest fics ever in the FETH tag!!! So like, holy shit!!!! Thank you all for sticking with this story and all the responses and feedback. It's really appreciated. 
> 
> Also, as I mentioned before, along with a good friend of mine, Eli, I’m helping put together Somewhere to Belong: A trans wlw/mlm relationship zine, it’s @3hTransZine on Twitter! If yall could, going to check out the twitter and fill out the interest check would be hella hella appreciated, and I thank you all!
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage and check out Somewhere to Belong, a FETH Trans wlw/mlm zine @3HTransZine

Chapter 29

“Come on, Leonie, you’re going to have to try harder than that!” Catherine said, ducking out of the path of a lance, the follow up strike from he opponent missing but tripping her, sending her stumbling back. Thankfully, Ferdinand pulled up behind her, helping her stay on her own two feet. 

“Don’t get cocky just yet, Catherine!” He chimed in, swinging out with the handle of his training sword and blocking a strike that had come from Bernadetta. Catherine rolled her eyes, grabbing a tighter grip on the wooden sword and the shortened lance in her hands. A quick muttered thanks, and there she was diving back into the middle of the frey. 

Catherine made eye contact with Leonie, the lance-wielder grinning as she charged forward, ready to skewer her where she stood, only for her lance to be knocked off path. Catherine, her sword occupied with blocking Leonie’s attack, aimed a strike with her half-lance for the woman’s ribs, pulling the blow just a bit as it struk home, but before she knew what was coming, the handle of Leonie’s weapon was smashing into her jaw, sending her spinning like a top. 

Catherine fell to the ground, just managing to roll out of the path of another strike before popping up to her feet, ducking out of the path of a training arrow from Bernadetta. 

“You good, bird boy?” Catherine hollered, having abandoned the name “twinkle dick” for Ferdinand after a rather hefty pile of dead mice appeared at her doorway one morning. Catherine had strong inclinations that it was Hubert, but little evidence. 

“I’m fine, Catherine!” Ferdinand shouted back, barely dodging another arrow. 

Catherine turned back to Leonie, who was spinning her lance in her fingers like a batton. 

“I think that’s two points for me.” Leonie taunted, grasping her weapon and dropping down into a readied stance. 

“No way, your follow up didn’t hit shit. That’s a point at most, and I hit you first. “ Catherine said, readying her own weapons and taunting the woman forward. “Come on and see if you can actually land a second.” 

As they clashed, Ashe turned from her spot watching the two fight, now facing Edelgard, who stood with her own axe in hand, patiently waiting for their sparring to resume. Ashe didn’t say a word, already prepared to fight. She feigned left as she took off at Edelgard, axe blocking the slightly startled repost Edelgard sent her way, before taking a shot of her own. The wooden axe head bounced off of Edelgard’s weapon’s handle, barely being blocked before making contact with her hip. Edelgard whipped her arms back, taking the blunt end of the axe handle and smacking it against Ashe’s chest, knocking the wind out of her and sending her onto her back with a dull thud. 

Ashe rolled back over her shoulder, landing in a low crouch much like she would sit in on Seteth’s saddle. 

“Ah, I see you’re not too distracted to actually manage your own fight.” Edelgard taunted, goading Ashe to strike. 

“Ha ha, very funny Edelgard.” Ashe grumbled, moving forward and swinging her axe at Edelgard’s chest, feeling the thwack of wood against wood as her stroke was blocked. Edelgard went to shove her weapon away, but by the time she did Ashe had already pulled her axe back, ducking lower and smacking her elbow against the back of one of Edelgard’s knees, sending her stumbling forward to the ground. 

Ashe went to follow up the attack, only for both of Edelgard’s boot heels to slam into her stomach, launching her onto her back. 

By the time Ashe could move to get up, there was a wooden axe blade pressed against her throat, Edelgard paused for a moment, before chuckling as she removed the axe, offering a hand that, at the very least, was accepted. 

“You should talk to her. You’re distracted as of late.” Edelgard offered quietly. Ashe just shook her head. 

“I have nothing to say to her that I haven’t already made plenty clear. I just don’t trust her around my partner.” Edelgard sighed as she helped Ashe back to her feet, seeing the spot out of the corner of her eye where both of their wyverns were now napping. 

When the training session had started that morning, at dawn as always, Seteth and Phlegon had been bounding around each other, wrestling in the grass before taking off to soar together around the sky over top of the Monastery. 

With how often Ashe and Leonie were deployed scouting for enemy troops and Byleth, the two wyvern’s seemed to miss each other terribly, and Edelgard wondered if the two beasts sought to make up for lost time when they could. They had taken quite some time to come back down from the morning flight, and now we're both resting in the shade of a large tree, Phlegon curled into a tight ball as Seteth lay wrapped around her, her head laying over top of Phlegon’s long blue neck. Edelgard found the sight cute, although seeing as how the angle gave great emphasis to the massive scar over Seteth’s right eye, cute might not be the appropriate term. She was certainly protective of Phlegon, and for that Edelgard was thankful. That tiny wyvern meant much to her, even if she did try and crush Byleth’s rib cage some time ago. 

“Take this!” Caspar shouted as he attacked Hubert from behind with his gauntlets, only for Hubert to easily step out of the path of his fist, his own wooden training sword swatting out, smacking the poor man across the face and breaking his nose with a loud crunch. “FUCK!” Caspar shouted through blood. 

“Oh, by the goddess, Caspar I am dreadfully sorry. I had thought I was aiming for your shoulder but I forgot your short stature. Medic!” Hubert called, waving at Linhardt who had been sitting on the sidelines. The green haired man scampered up, grabbing Caspar by the hand and dragging him off of the training ground. Hubert remained there, stood outside of the main training area, slightly lost for what to do. 

“Hubert, so merciless of you! What kind of rapscallion have I been falling asleep beside, to attack a friend so ruthlessly?” Ferdinand said in Hubert’s ear, taunting him as he wrapped his arms around Hubert’s midsection. The slightly shorter Vestra grumbled something, trying not to show his blush. 

“Oh quiet, you. I didn’t mean to hit him in the face. If anything, I think this reflects poorly on my instructor.” Hubert accused. That instructor just happened to be the man whose arms were now wrapped around his torso, and Ferdinand could only chuckle as he rested his chin on Hubert’s shoulder. 

“Perhaps it has more to do with the fact you’ve barely been training with the sword for a few months now, and you still need to hone your skills. Either way, I think you’ve said your apologies, and there is a reason we have Linhardt on the sidelines for our training. Caspar will be fine, as will you if you don’t let this bruise your delicate brooding ego.” Hubert rolled his eyes again, leaning back and placing a peck on Ferdinand’s cheek. 

Linhardt sat on the ground beside his partner, who was currently utterly gushing blood all over his training clothes as Linhardt’s hand sat, engulfed in light, on his nose. 

“I told you, you need to stop declaring your attacks when you are trying to be stealthy. If you are going to insist on being a fighter on the front line, please at least try to be subtle about it my love.” Linhardt scolded. 

“Oh, you sound just like Catherine back at the Academy. ‘Quit shouting’ this and ‘stop announcing your location’ that. Perhaps I intended to get struck to ensure you didn’t go and get too bored, sat over here all handsome and by your lonesome with no one to heal and keep you company. Did you ever consider that?” Caspar offered, to which Linhardt raised an inquisitive brow. 

“Did you?” 

“... I mean no, but you didn’t know that!” Caspar’s apparent ‘joke’ only made Linhardt sigh. 

“What am I ever going to do with you?” Linhardt asked. 

“I suppose you’ll just have to stick close by my side. ” 

“That sounds like so much work.” Linhardt groaned. 

“Is it more work than patching me up when I run off on my own and get hurt?” Caspar offered as a counterpoint. 

“No, I would guess not.” 

“Well then, it looks like you’re stuck with me.” Linhardt chuckled at Caspar’s bloody-faced proclamation. 

“There are far worse fates that I could imagine. At least you’re cute.” 

At that, the bell tolled eight o’clock, signalling the end of their training session. The Eagles began placing their equipment back on the nearby rack, each of them moving toward the bathhouse. As they walked, Edelgard heard a clicking of heels on stone, and suddenly beside her was one very sweaty Dorothea. The brightness of the smile on her face seemed to make the early morning sun seem dingy in comparison. 

“Well, what has you so cheerful this morning?” Edelgard inquired. 

“We received a letter from Petra last night. Nearly 2 dozen pages of letters, I might add.” Dorothea answered with a giggle. 

“Well, that is quite wonderful. I’m glad the both of you can rest easy. I knew you two had been anxious about her silence. What is the situation in Brigid?” Dorothea looked at her inquisitively. 

“Have you not received some sort of report from her?” Edelgard chuckled. 

“Dorothea I have not even bothered to check.” 

“And why is that?” Dorothea gave the woman an appraising stare. 

“Because, I was certain that no matter the situation, I would not receive any communication from the woman before you two had. I have been able to time her reports, three days after you both receive a letter, like clockwork from almost the day she left.” Edelgard explained. “Petra certainly seems to have her priorities in order.” 

“Is that sarcasm, Edie?” Dorothea teased. 

“Not in the slightest.” 

“Good. I was starting to worry you might be spending too much time with Catherine.” 

“Hardly. Now, is there anything you can tell me of her absence?” Dorothea realized how far off track they had gone. 

“Oh, yes! Apparently there has been some infighting amongst the factions in Brigid, and some fighters she had gone to coordinate with were intent to align themselves with the Kingdom and the Church in exchange for support from both. It appears there were quite a few weeks of skirmishes between the Kingdom-backed faction and Brigid’s own fighters, which left her rather busy. Understandably, of course.”

“Well, I am glad she is alive and safe.” 

“As am I. Although she said her next batch of letters might not be for some time, which makes me nervous. But besides the point, when should Bernadetta and I expect you two in the greenhouse this afternoon?” Dorothea asked, her change of clothes and towel in hand. 

“Hubert has a small gap in my schedule set aside between half past one and quarter past 2. I should hope that works for you?” Dorothea nodded. 

“That will work perfectly.” Dorothea said. “Bernadetta has been much more herself in recent weeks since she began visiting the greenhouse.” 

“I had noticed. It has been nice to see her at dinner.” Edelgard said. 

“It has been rather nice seeing you there as well Edie. We’ve enjoyed your actually joining us on occasion.” Dorothea teased. “It’s nice to be able to see you any time not crammed up in that office. It is why I’ve enjoyed you coming along to Bernadetta’s gardening lessons.” 

“I don’t have much choice in the matter. Catherine seems to forget that her being my bodyguard means I tell her where we go, and not the other way around.” Edelgard lamented, if only in jest. 

“Oh boo hoo hoo, Princess. I actually hassle you to go do awful, horrific activities like eat regular meals and sit in a lush garden for half an hour a week. I truly am a monster disguised as a woman.” Catherine said as she sauntered up beside Edelgard opposite of Dorothea. She had a bright red apple in each hand, with two small bundles under her arm. “It ain’t my fault that you’re crabby when you sit at that desk all damn day.” 

“Excuse me?” Edelgard said, just on the playful side of offended. 

“I’m not wrong, and you damn well know it.” Catherine said with confidence as she took a bite from one of the two apples.. “You forgot this, again, by the way.” Catherine said, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she spoke, pulling one of the cloth bundles out from under her arm and stuffing it into Edelgard’s hands. It was her clothing bundle and towel for the bath house. A second later, Catherine was also shoving one of her two apples, thankfully the unbitten one, into her hands. “You’re also super pissy when your blood sugar gets low, so eat up.” Catherine said, taking another bite out of her own apple before running a bit farther ahead, calling after Ferdinand. Edelgard looked to the apple and then to Dorothea. 

“She does realize I am her commander, yes? I’m not crazy?” Dorothea shrugged, and Edelgard just shook her head and took a bite from the apple. As she chewed and swallowed the first bite, she felt a bit of relief in a headache she hadn’t even realized she’d been dealing with to that point. 

“I mean, are you really surprised ‘Princess’?” Dorothea asked, raising an eyebrow as she recycled Catherine’s nickname. Edelgard sighed, shaking her head, a faint smile growing and a chuckle escaping her lips before she took another bite. 

“No. I really am not.”

Some time later, Catherine and Edelgard strolled out of the bath house, Edelgard in her red gown, gauntlets and her recently finished horned crown, and Catherine in her full uniform, hand resting on the pommel of the short sword at her hip. Over her shoulder was slung the silver half spear that had been forged out of what had been Joseph’s hammer handle. Thankfully, the blacksmith had been willing to abide by a rather strange order, melting the old handle down and forming it into a sort of half-length lance. Catherine thought it was nice, whatever form it may take, to feel the weight of Joseph’s old weapon on her back. However the heavy weight of Thunderbrand near it was just as unsettling to her. She didn’t trust the weapon. Didn’t trust herself with it. 

“How was sparring with Leonie this morning?” Edelgard asked as they moved toward the Audience Chamber. 

“It was fine. I still have no idea what the girl’s read on me is, but she stays respectful with me, so I can’t really complain. How was sparring with Ashe?” Catherine asked, looking down at the Emperor beside her. 

“Tense, as it always is. She spent more time looking at you and Leonie’s match than focusing on our own. That young woman is going to get herself killed if she doesn’t focus more on her own training.” 

“Don’t say that.” Catherine snapped, catching herself a second later. “Sorry. But she’ll be fine. Ashe is a tough girl, and a damn good fighter.” Edelgard just sighed. She had tried to convince Catherine to speak to Ashe, but the woman was adamant to leave things as they were. 

“I meant nothing besides concern for my friend, Catherine. On that topic however, Hubert informed me that Lysithea has made a request to see me for tea in the afternoon, so I will need to see to that. If you’d be willing, you can take that time to go eat your lunch, and if it isn’t too much, bring me a plate to the office after?” 

“Not a problem at all. Tell Lysithea I said hello, and to stop eating all the fucking fruit in the greenhouse. I swear that little demon is so intent to pick that place dry of anything sweet, I’ve seen less destructive plagues.” Edelgard chuckled. 

“I’ll make sure to pass it along. Although I think I’ll leave the profanity out.” 

“No.” Catherine said, her tone serious but her expression being anything but. “The ‘fucking’ is very important to the message I’m trying to send here. It’s got to be included.” 

“Oh for the love of the goddess, then tell her yourself.” Edelgard laughter as she lambasted the woman. 

“Hell no. Have you seen what that woman can do on the battlefield? She even scares Jeritza, I’m terrified of her.” Catherine admitted that fear without a hint of hesitation or comedy. 

“Really? You’re afraid of a woman who is shorter than even me?” Edelgard asked, resting her hands on her hips as she raised a brow at the woman. 

“Hey, if it’s any consolation, you scare the hell out of me too. You short people are all scary. How can you store so much hatred in so little space?” Catherine laughed as she saw the incredulous expression across Edelgard’s face. 

“Excuse me!?” Edelgard asked, slugging Catherine in the arm.

“Ow! Hey, want me to make it even worse?” Catherine asked as they walked into the Audience chamber, the bodyguard now clutching her injured arm.

“No, I’d rather you be quiet.” Edelgard muttered, taking a seat at her desk as she began rifling through the papers atop it. 

“Oh Princess, you know for a fact that’s never going to happen. But, as I was going to say, I’m pretty sure Lysithea is taller than you.” Edelgard went stil as a statue, papers still clutched in her hand, and as the seconds dragged on Catherine genuinely worried she was about to be murdered. 

“She is not taller than me, you ass!” Edelgard yelled, throwing a fistfull of papers at Catherine, the stack flapping out and scattering across the floor before even getting close to the blonde. 

“She absolutely is.” Catherine stepped closer, grinning that shit eating grin. “Don’t believe me? Look for yourself next time you see her. I’ll bet gold on it.” 

“Not in a lifetime.” Edelgard assures. 

“Fine, be that way.” Catherine set the collected papers on the desk, smiling from ear to ear as they went on to properly start their day. 

“Yes, thank you so much for you time, Lord Ivertus.” Edelgard said, shaking the mans hand as she walked him to the door, the ink still drying on the trade agreement between the noble’s house and the empire for a steady supply of metal ingots as the man left the room. 

“Of course, Lady Edelgard. Please, let me assure you the empire will have only the highest quality iron at its disposal from this point forward.” The mustachioed lord declared. 

Hubert entered the room, and Edelgard handed the man along to him, and the two walked out of the office. Edelgard’s smile spanned the entirety of her cheeks, but the moment she closed the door, it fell into an exhausted frown. She turned and leaned back against the door, as if the lord intended to barge back in, and groaned aloud as she slowly allowed herself to slip down until she sat on the floor.

“I thought that man would never leave!” 

“I was honestly wondering if he had forgotten he doesn’t live here.” Catherine said, stood with her silver lance drawn, the point of the blade facing down as both her hands rested on the other end, as was always her stance when there were meetings going on. It served as a way to seem formal but ensure everyone was aware she was armed if anyone went to try any sort of funny business. “I have heard some nobles rant on rather pretentious topics, but metal ingots have got to be one of the most boring of them.” 

“If I never have to hear that man sing the praise of the fact they mark their ingots in cursive again it will be too soon.” Edelgard sighed, resting her head back against the door, only to hear a knock a moment later, drawing another groan from her. 

“Wow, I can come back later if you would prefer.” Lysithea called from the other side of the door, muffled by the thick wood. Edelgard stood and wrenched the doors open, seeing the young magic user in her usual purple dress, her hair pulled back and covered in a length of sheer purple cloth. 

“No, please, Lysithea accept my sincerest apologies. I had thought you were someone else.” 

“Well, I pity whoever they are then. I shall consider forgiving you, only if you accompany me to tea this very instant.” Lysithea declared with all the gravitas of a demand for immediate surrender. 

“I think I can agree to those terms.” Edelgard said, looking back to Catherine. “Retire for your lunch, and I should be back within an hour.” 

“Understood. Want me to bring back the chicken or beef today?” 

“Do you really need to ask?” Edelgard wondered with an accusatory brow. The knight rolled her eyes. 

“Chicken, got it.” 

Edelgard bid Lysithea to lead the way, and the two moved toward the dining hall to retrieve their tea, and of course a few raspberry pastries. 

“So, has the morning entirely been deserving of that oh-so-kind greeting you gave me just now, or was that last meeting just a doozy?” Lysithea asked as they moved down the stairs. 

“It’s been absolute dreck all day. Three meetings since training ended this morning, and each of them with some nobleman who seems to have his head farther up his own ass than the one before him.” Edelgard lamented. 

“Oh my, that terrible?” 

“You have not the slightest idea. A man just spent an hour of my life ranting about why his ingots were the most superior type of iron for swordcraft instead of the ingots of his neighboring lord, who draws metal from the exact same mine!” 

“Could you not have just told him to cut to the chase?” Lysiteha asked as she took the teapot from the kind older woman working the kitchen that afternoon. A moment later, she returned with a box of pastries. 

“Believe me, I would have loved to say just that, but this lord was offering his metal at nearly a third less gold per ingot than his competitor, and I fear bruising his ego could cost us millions.” Edelgard took the box from the woman, thanking her politely. “Oh, ma’am, might you be able to retrieve something from the icebox? There should be a rather hefty jar of preserves on the third shelf to the right, marked with the imperial seal.” 

“Aye, ma’am, just a moment.” The woman said, marching to the counter and kneeling down where Edelgard knew a rather hefty ice chest lay, obscured by the countertop. A moment later the woman returned, handing the jar over. 

“Thank you, ma’am. Have a lovely day.” Edelgard said before she and Lysithea moved to the gardens. 

“I can’t imagine being held at ransom by cheap metal and having to listen to some lord prattle on about his nonsense.” Lysithea remarked as she found a small uncovered table and set the pot and cups down. 

“Sincerely, I would rather have to battle for my life with an axe in my hand than sit there and listen to men jabber on.” Edelgard set the jar and the box of pastries on the table, taking her seat and crossing one leg over another as Lysithea began to pour out their cups, and in return Edelgard slid her several pastries. 

“Well, seeing as how your last occurence of that nature ended with you nearly dead or disappeared, I think I personally feel better knowing you’re facing nobles that bore to death instead of strike you to it.” 

“Oh that is beyond unfair. I was caught late at night and by surprise. Had it been any other occasion, I would have rid myself of those pests with ease.” Edelgard declared, spreading some of the preserves over her pasty. “Would you like some?” Edelgard offered the jar. 

“Yes, thank you.” Lysithea took the knife from Edelgard and spread a thick helping of the preserves onto a pasty of her own, shoveling the treat into her mouth in a single bite. She chewed merily for a few seconds, before her bites began to slow and a visible look of distaste spread on her face. She seemed to force herself to swallow the food, before making a gagging noise and quickly inhaling a cup of tea. “That is revolting!!!” Lysithea sputtered, pouring another cup of tea and washing away the taste. 

“Well I think that’s a bit dramatic.” Edelgard said, rolling her eyes. “And I’ll thank you to be a bit more delicate in critiquing my cooking.” 

“You made that?” 

“With help, yes. I made this batch about three months ago.” 

“Oh, so around when you were attacked? Perhaps that explains why! The world deemed your crimes against it too great for the horrors you stored in that jar.” Lysithea said, finally rid of the taste. “It is so tart!” 

“It is raspberry preserves, it is meant to be tart.” 

“Well, not that tart. That’s just unseemly.” 

“Or perhaps you simply lack the developed taste to enjoy things not buried in a mountain of sugar.” Lysithea glared at her and crossed her arms. 

“That was just uncalled for.” 

“Then quit insulting my preserves, for the goddess’s sake!” 

“Fine.” Lysithea conceded, pouring Edelgard another glass of bergamot tea. “There is… something more serious I have to speak to you about. The reason I asked you to tea today.” 

“I thought there might be something with more gravitas than merely a social visit. Speak, then.” Edelgard gestured. 

“I had wanted to check in for some time, to see how you’ve been dealing with the, well, situation…” Lysithea looked down, averting her gaze from Edelgard’s as she tried to find a good way to phrase the subject that didn’t risk exposing it to anyone who might be passing by. 

“Ah… that.” Edelgard said, pausing before her next bite as she seemed to suddenly lose her appetite. 

“Yes, that.” Lysithea’s voice was terse, a bit offended by the idea it could be anything else. “I know it certainly is not pleasant news to hear, but I want to make sure you’re faring better than I did when I learned of it. That’s not exactly hard, seeing as I was barely more than a child, but still.” 

“I’ve adjusted to it perfectly well. Now, it would be best if we simply dropped the subject if we actually wish to not waste this food.” Edelgard couldn’t meet Lysithea’s eyes as she spoke, forcing herself to take another bite of pastry.

“Edelgard, I’ve grown quite fond of you over this past year, and how I was feeling toward your house prior means that is rather significant, but I am not afraid to be forward with you when I think it is what is needed. This is not something we can merely ignore and set aside. It is there, haunting us, hunting us. It is not intent to go away any time soon, unless, that is, you were to try and see if any of the minds you have at your disposal might be able to find some way to help us.” Lysithea’s voice held the smallest sliver of hope in it as she added the last portion, as if it had not been her entire goal with this meeting. 

“I said rather plainly that I do not intend to carry this conversation on any longer, Lysithea.” Edelgard’s hand clenched beneath the table, forming a first so tight that it made a joint in her hand pop. 

“And I quite obviously do. If we were to take ourselves to Manuela and perhaps Linhardt or another crest scholar, we might be able to-” 

“No.” Edelgard spoke no louder than her regular voice, yet still the ironclad certainty of it made Lysithea go quiet. The Emperor stood from her seat, discarding the napkin that had on her lap. “I’ll trust you to return the dishes and preserves to the kitchen.” 

“Edelgard, wait.” 

“Good day, Lysithea.” Lysithea just sat, dumbfounded, as she watched Edelgard stomp away, shoulders set rigid as if she were Atlas, holding the entire world’s weight.

She thought to herself about how, for all her hope, it seemed Edelgard was reacting to the news the same way she had at first. Ignorance is bliss, and Lysithea had stolen that bliss from her, so now Edelgard seemed content to merely pretend it was not there. She would have to try again some time, the sooner the better, but at the same time she knew it would be some time before there’d even been an opportunity to. Too soon and Edelgard might just shut her out entirely. She couldn’t risk that. 

Lysithea had felt so happy to know there was someone else, someone alive, who could understand her and what she had gone through. She had been rather admiring of Edelgard’s ambition, seeing her try to take on rebuilding Fodlan with her time left while Lysithea was barely capable of maintaining her household before she was set to depart to the goddess. 

Then Edelgard had spoken to her in her office, and Lysithea had the most twisted feeling of being the deliverer of a decade-old prank, where the punchline was simply the knowledge that she’d die sooner than anyone she cared for, save the unlucky few who die in battle. 

Was that her goal, Lysithea wondered, to die a martyr’s death in the place of the death of a damned soul? Deeper still, Lysithea felt a rather aching guilt. There was, deep down, some small part of her that had been thankful she was not alone in her damnation. She had found someone who truly understood her, who knew what she had been through. She had found a kind of peace in the knowledge that, even if they did not rot and decay at the same time, she was not condemned to die alone. 

But now that person had stomped away and left her behind, and she felt more alone than she ever had before. Lysithea wiped at her cheek. She couldn’t cry. Not here, not in public. They’d all see her as little more than some over-emotional child, playing at being an adult. She wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. 

About two hours later, Edelgard was sat beside Dorothea on the side of a large planting box as Bernadetta and Catherine worked together in a flowerbed toward the other side of the building. Catherine had undone the upper half of her uniform, leaving her undershirt in place with a loose work shirt thrown over top of it for the duration of their visit. Edelgard took a drink from her glass of water, watching the two women at work as they weeded the soil around a large purple iris flower, but her mind was anywhere but in that greenhouse. 

In truth, she was still doing her best to keep her mind empty entirely, lest it be bombarded with the heinous cacophony she’d been dealing with since her tea with Lysithea. She knew she had been rude, marching off and leaving the mess for her, but at the same time she thought it rather rude of Lysithea to barge in to her day and raise those topics as bluntly as she did. She had more important things to focus on, such as the war effort. 

“Edie, Edie, hello, Fodlan to Edelgard.” Dorothea’s voice slowly faded into Edelgard’s thoughts, until suddenly a well manicured set of fingers was snapping directly in front of her face, causing Edelgard to startle and nearly leap from her seat, splattering herself with half her glass of water in the process. Catherine turned her head, looking over her shoulder and visibly holding back laughter. 

“You good there, Princess?” Catherine’s voice was so thick with sarcasm Edelgard had to fight the urge to hurl the glass at her. But, a simple glare from her, and Catherine returned to her weeding. 

“Really Edelgard, are you ok? You were staring. It was concerning.” Dorothea said, leaning in slightly to whisper, as if it were some secret. 

“I’m fine, Dorothea. Simply a bad day that has found me lost in thought.” Edelgard wiped at the front of her dress as she tried to assure Dorothea she had not lost her mind. 

“I see.” Dorothea muttered, but Edelgard was too preoccupied to notice her following where Edelgard’s eyes had been looking when she’d floated off into her thoughts. Nor did she notice the tiniest of grins popping up on the songstress’s lips as she followed that trail directly to one of the two women tending to the iris, and it certainly was not her Bellflower. 

“Well, would you prefer to talk about it?” Dorothea asked. 

“No, in fact quite the opposite. I’d rather forget about it entirely.” Edelgard muttered. “Tell me of you. How has it been recently?” 

“It’s been fine, I guess. The lack of missions has left us both a bit bored lately.” Dorothea lamented. 

“Then I am thankful we have our training, for fear of all of us becoming rusty in our crafts.” Edelgard commented. 

“That is true. But I am in all honesty not sad to be away from the fighting, it’s simply ominous to not be in the thick of it when I know it is going on elsewhere.” 

“I understand that conflict. Truly, it is one I share when I’m stuck in my office day and night while you all are out risking your lives in the field. I do not revel in combat but I feel ashamed sending you all off to it without walking with you.” Edelgard confessed, leaning back and grabbing a small handful of fresh berries from the bowl between them. 

“Don’t, Edie, the strike force knows that you would be right there alongside us if you could be. All of us can fight together, but only you can keep this fight going so we even have that ability.” Edelgard felt Dorothea’s hand rest atop her own, and saw the songstress smile. “You do more than most any one person should be able to. Don’t think yourself so small because you aren’t able to heft that axe of yours as often.” 

“I suppose there’s no arguing with you on that point, then?” Dorothea shook her head at Edelgard's question. 

“None whatsoever, young lady.” Dorothea declared, making Edelgard roll her eyes. 

“I’m at most a year younger than you.” 

“Yes, that makes my words no less accurate.” Dorothea giggled to herself as she saw Edelgard heaving a massive sigh. 

“So, how has everything been regarding Petra? You said you received a letter from her.” Dorothea sighed, leaning back against the column beside her as she looked at Bernadetta, wearing a tattered old pair of uniform pants and a work shirt she’d borrowed from Catherine that had dwarfed her so much she’d had to chop it down with a pair of scissors. 

“Yes, we did. It’s good that it came. Bernadetta has been struggling these last few months. I am faring better, but only slightly. We had hope that it would be just a few months, but that all was dashed when a year passed, and from her letter it sounds like we aren’t likely to see her strolling up to the gate any time soon.” Edelgard nodded along, pouring herself another glass of water before Dorothea held out her own, which Edelgard filled as well. “Thank you. I find myself wondering some days why she has any intention of returning at all. This place holds nothing for her but bad memories, I wouldn’t blame her for delaying her return.” This time it was Edelgard’s turn to rest a hand atop Dorothea’s. 

“That is untrue, and I ought to scold you for saying such a brazen lie. Fodlan holds the both of you.” Edelgard gestured toward Bernadetta. “And I know that means the world to that woman.” 

“How?” Dorothea asked quietly. “How could you possibly know that, Edie?” Edelgard hesitated, seeming to debate with herself for a moment before her answer came, tentative and ready to retract. 

“If I confess something, do you swear to not inform Petra I told you?” Dorothea nodded, and Edelgard sighed as she prayed that this didn’t come to explode in her face. “My correspondence with Petra has not been one sided. Her reports come, three days after I see you and Bernadetta receive a letter, and along with reports on the situation in Brigid, and how the people are warming to the idea of comradery with our new Adrestia, she always includes a note asking me how it is you two are faring.” Dorothea’s head turned slightly, her eyes narrowing inquisitively, and Edelgard could just barely see her bottom lip quiver. “I tell her, and give her my own little reports back. I think she is worried that, if something were wrong, you might not tell her for fear of making her worry. That does not seem like the type of thing one does for just anyone.” 

“I suppose you’re right…” Dorothea conceded. “I should know better. I tell Bernie-bear that there’s no doubt she’s returning for us. I don’t understand why I seem to be the one who never truly believes it.” 

“Perhaps it is easier to tell someone else what you wish to hear, then to say something and believe it.” Edelgard said, looking off into the distance again. “But, I feel like we’ve gotten into more somber territory than I had intended.” Edelgard felt thankful when that drew a smile from Dorothea. The woman was always so chipper, it was almost scary to see her sad. 

“I suppose it did. Give me just a moment Edelgard.” Dorothea looked over to the two at work. “Bellflower, you missed a big one right at the base of the iris.” 

“Sweetheart, that’s part of the flower.” Dorothea went a bit red as Bernadetta giggled at her apparent mistake. 

“Well I didn’t know. It doesn’t have any flowers!” 

“Yes, my love, they’re called leaves.” Bernadetta’s reply made Catherine break out in cackles.

“Oh quiet you!” Dorothea said, thrusting her hand outward, cup in her grasp, sending it’s contents out and splattering into Catherine’s face. 

“Refreshing.” The guard said, rather unamused by the little water show. She wiped off her face. “Why’d you splash me, she’s the one who said it!” Catherine said, pointing to Bernadetta. 

“Yes, but I love her. You are barely on the good side of tolerable.” Dorothea said plainly. 

“Ok, you know what that’s fair.” Catherine said, returning to her plant. Dorothea saw Bernadetta looking at her, slightly concerned. To abet her worry, she blew the woman a kiss, which sent her back to the garden work with a smile on her face. 

“Why does Bernadetta tend after that Iris?” Edelgard asked. 

“Oh, it’s Petra’s favorite flower. She said there is a village in the mountains of Brigid with the most lovely iris flowers, and iris plants made her think of home. So now that flower reminds Bernie-bear of Petra.” Edelgard nodded along with Dorothea’s explanation, choosing to look away as she saw Dorothea ogling Bernadetta’s rear end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK! So, a big emphasis on a few particular characters this week, which I hope everyone enjoyed. I'm sure you all can see little signs of why the chapter is named as it is (fun fact, this is one of the first chapters where I didn't have a song I associated with it to name it after. Go figure). But, I wanna hear y'alls theories as to what's gonna happen that made me pick the name Guilt for this chapter. I still feel bad only giving a half-update this week, but I hope everyone enjoyed what I had available today, and that next week we'll have the last half-shot and then back to our regular page-dump!
> 
> Also, as I mentioned before, along with a good friend of mine, Eli, I’m helping put together Somewhere to Belong: A trans wlw/mlm relationship zine, it’s @3hTransZine on Twitter! If yall could, going to check out the twitter and fill out the interest check would be hella hella appreciated, and I thank you all!
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage and check out Somewhere to Belong, a FETH Trans wlw/mlm zine @3HTransZine


	30. Chapter 29: Guilt Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why don’t you do anything for your birthday? I figure all of the shit you’ve been through, surviving this long is something you deserve to celebrate.” Catherine sat on the edge of Edelgard’s desk, careful to stay out of the way of the Emperor’s actual work. She’d been shoved off the desk enough times to learn that lesson well. 
> 
> “I might have survived to this point, but I am the only one. I find the idea of celebrating my own life knowing that it was at the cost of my sibling’s to be an insulting prospect.” Edelgard snapped, clearly agitated by the talk of birthdays. “Life is a bittersweet pill that is short, painful, and ends far too commonly with a great deal of the second with not nearly enough of the first.” Edelgard finished muttering, leaning down and scratching away at a piece of parchment as a means of ending the conversation. 
> 
> Catherine mulled over Edelgard’s words, nodding along as she realized how much of Edelgard’s life must have been spent in a spot where celebrating anything, let alone living, likely wasn’t very enticing. 
> 
> “That’s an understandable way to see it. But…” Catherine seemed to hesitate. “I’m thankful for the fact you’re still here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall! Here's the second half of last weeks update! I hope everyone enjoys and is excited for next week, when the yearning gets EVEN MORE POWERFUL. This week has been hell with work and school, so I'm going to have to keep up my half-update schedule, but yall will still be getting 15-20 page updates so don't worry. 
> 
> Also an update: Somewhere to Belong: A trans wlw/mlm relationship zine (@3hTransZine on Twitter! ) Has officially opened mod apllications! If you're interested, come check it out! https://t.co/60m2iSrTvs?amp=1
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage and check out Somewhere to Belong, a FETH Trans wlw/mlm zine @3HTransZine

After a while longer in the Greenhouse with Bernadetta and Dorothea and saying their goodbyes, Edelgard and Catherine strode down the path toward the administrative building. A few flights of stairs later, and they were back in Edelgard’s office. They took their usual places, with Edelgard at her desk and Catherine in a chair beside a nearby bookshelf. When there was no lords to meet, Catherine would sit and read with her weapon ready if something were to attempt to surprise them.

“So, what all is left for you today?” Catherine asked, opening a book on Almyran history Ferdinand had recommended. It was dense as all hell, but she had to do something to pass the time. 

“Two meetings with generals on the northeastern front, and then I requested a few hours be left unfilled in my schedule to allow me to catch up on other paperwork.” Edelgard leaned back in her chair taking a deep breath as she could already feel a headache coming. 

“Damn, productive day today, Princess.” Catherine chuckled to herself as she saw Edelgard yawn, stretching her arms up into the air. “Sounds like someone should listen to me more when I say late night paperwork sessions are a bad idea.” Catherine teased. 

“Oh, quiet you. I’m 21 years old, I do not need my sleep habits dotted after like some sort of child.” Edelgard muttered. 

‘Wait, 21? I thought you were 20.” 

“I was, until I had my 21st birthday, for you see Catherine, that is how aging works.” Edelgard said, resting her chin in her hand as she shot Catherine a taunting grin. “Do I need to go fetch Hubert so he might teach about time again?” Catherine went red in the face with embarrassment. 

“Oh come on, you know that ain’t what I meant. I just… didn’t know you’d had your birthday already. I don’t even really know when your birthday even is.” Catherine said, scratching at the back of her head and realizing just how long had passed. This whole war had already been going on for over a year and three months now. 

“Yes, well, I don’t tend to make a habit of doing much of anything for it. But if you’d like to know, It was about a week ago, on the 22nd of the Garland Moon.” Catherine’s eyes went wide. 

“Really? It was that recent and I missed it?”

“Again, I don’t do anything to celebrate, so it is not surprising that you did not notice.” 

“Why don’t you do anything for your birthday? I figure all of the shit you’ve been through, surviving this long is something you deserve to celebrate.” Catherine sat on the edge of Edelgard’s desk, careful to stay out of the way of the Emperor’s actual work. She’d been shoved off the desk enough times to learn that lesson well. 

“I might have survived to this point, but I am the only one. I find the idea of celebrating my own life knowing that it was at the cost of my sibling’s to be an insulting prospect.” Edelgard snapped, clearly agitated by the talk of birthdays. “Life is a bittersweet pill that is short, painful, and ends far too commonly with a great deal of the second with not nearly enough of the first.” Edelgard finished muttering, leaning down and scratching away at a piece of parchment as a means of ending the conversation. 

Catherine mulled over Edelgard’s words, nodding along as she realized how much of Edelgard’s life must have been spent in a spot where celebrating anything, let alone living, likely wasn’t very enticing. 

“That’s an understandable way to see it. But…” Catherine seemed to hesitate. “I’m thankful for the fact you’re still here.” 

How does one even begin to respond to something like that? Before Edelgard could think of a way, there was a heavy knock at the door. Without a word, Catherine stood and drew her lance, walking over to her spot and resting the tip in the small groove she’d worn into the wood over the past three months, standing at the ready in the corner as a gentle reminder to visiting lords not to try anything too funny. Edelgard called for the interrupting knocker to come in, and they went along with their day, as if nothing had happened at all, yet Edelgard found her mind wandering back to what Catherine had said. 

Byleth stood at the starting point of the Battle of Eagle and Lion, her class around her as she surveyed the opposing teams. 

“What do you make of the situation then, professor?” Felix asked, arms crossed as he stood beside her. He had become quite accustomed to her, even if his standoffish attitude made Byleth want to smack him upside the head a few separate times a day. 

“I think that this will be child's play.” Byleth heard herself declare. 

“Now, don’t go and get too cocky now. Or I’ll have to assume you and the boar are both not to be relied on in battle, for fear of our fight for our lives falling behind in importance to fellating your own ego.” Felix taunted, and all Byleth could think as she was forced to watch all of this was that she wanted more than anything to ring the little shit by his throat. 

“No, it’s no idle brag. Look at the Deer. I don’t know what Hanneman has been drinking in his spare time, but all of his students have clearly been training in the wrong skills. He made Raphael a damned healing mage, and Hilda is an archer! Clearly, he has no idea what they are skilled at, and simply assigned them each an emphasis in their training at random.” Byleth heard herself lamenting, and Felix’s expression almost made her laugh. 

Could she even laugh? She had no control over the body whose eyes she was currently looking through, so she knew she couldn’t make it laugh, but could she? Byleth decided to drop the thought, instead watching the rest of this nightmare play out. 

“Professor, you seem quite well taught in the skills of our opponents. Might you have something to tell us of? Perhaps some secret spy ring you’ve neglected to inform us of?” Dimitri asked, walking up beside the both of them, ignoring Felix’s obvious glare of disdain. 

“Oh, Dimitri, you say it like you’re kidding, but I worry you’re growing paranoid.” Annette remarked as she joined them all in looking over the hills. 

“Hey, what’s everyone looking at?” Ashe asked as ‘he’ walked up to the others.

If there was one thing that made Byleth truly want to take control of the puppet she seemed to be parading around within, it was the fact that, whatever the reason, this version of her seemed to fail to make Ashe feel comfortable enough to be herself amongst her peers. Perhaps it was simply being trapped among the Faergan traditionalism, but she truly was enraged at her student being left in that facade. But that anger only led to sadness as Byleth also found herself missing the company of her little sister. Leonie was still with the Deer, and Byleth could not believe that she had meant so little to this version of herself that she would allow her to stay there and just abandon her. She wanted nothing more than to take back her body and throttle the tragedy of impracticality that was the tart parading around in her skin at this moment.

Ok, perhaps that was a bit far. This version of her had seen little of the Leonie Byleth knew. Her dear little sister was, to this version of her, simply another student. Perhaps an important one, but not nearly as important as her goal of somehow creating ‘a happy ending’ as Sothis continued to refer to it, as if this were some fairy tale. 

In all honesty, Byleth was starting to struggle to hold her mind together as she sat through what was now the 5th time through this damned school year. Memories were starting to blur together, what was hers and what was this version of herself becoming an ever-increasingly vague distinction. 

She wanted to be home. Goddess did she want to be home. She missed her girls. She missed her sister, and Ashe, and her students. She wanted to be back with them, back in the monastery, or hell even back in the war camp. She wanted to curl up and hold Catherine and Edelgard tight to her and not let them go until they were all utterly sick of eachother. But then that wasn’t even an option.

Byleth remembered that her Catherine had chosen her side in this fight, and it was not with the Eagles. Her Catherine was an enemy, someone she would never hold again lest it be watching an enemy combatant die in her arms on the battlefield.

This damned vision just taunted her with her and Edelgard more and more, and each time it ended the same, both of them dead, and her left standing in their blood as she watched this damned woman that seemed to be her try again. 

Byleth was so tired. Tired of watching them die, tired of watching herself fall in love with them only to betray one and get the other killed. Although, to her utter amazement, this version of her seemed to still not comprehend that she did not just hold Edelgard as a friend. Which, to be frank, was astounding. Byleth loved her friends, without a doubt, but dear goddess one does not sit through this hell nearly half a dozen times for simply a ‘good pal’. 

Byleth realized with a startle that she had completely tuned out of the battle, but one savage war cry made her snap back into attention. 

It was her Emperor.

Edelgard was charging her, axe in hand and ready to battle. Byleth watched herself block the blade with her lance handle, shoving the woman back and swatting at her head with the blunt end, barely missing as Edelgard ducked underneath the strike. Edelgard retaliated with a swipe at her knees, and Byleth heard herself grunt in pain as she assumed the hit landed. Byleth fell to the ground, but barely managed to roll out of the path of another axe swing. Pushing herself up with her lance, she reeled the weapon back and smashed the flat end of the spear into Edelgard’s chest like a pool cue, knocking the empress back and opening enough space for her to sweep Edelgard’s legs out from underneath her. Byleth watched Edelgard hit the ground with a thud, and by the time she was looking up, her lance tip was pressed against her throat. 

“Yield.” Byleth heard herself say, making Byleth roll her eyes. Could she roll her eyes? It felt like she could, but it didn’t change her vision. Although it did make her feel nauseous. 

“Never.” Edelgard said, sarcastically. 

Byleth couldn’t help but smile at that. Damn right, her Emperor never gave up. 

“I see you have quite the flare for the dramatic, Miss Hresvelg.” Byleth watched her hands pull away the lance and offer a hand. “You and my student Sylvain would get along swimmingly in that regard. 

Edelgard took the hand and stood. 

“Believe me, your student Sylvain believes he “gets along swimmingly’ with every woman in this academy and most of the men as well. I however have to disagree.” Edelgard retorted, smoothing out her uniform. “I suppose I am out of the battle, then.” 

“It would appear so. You seem rather adept with your axe, but sadly you still seemed to make the mistake of taking on an opponent who has far more reach than you without properly adjusting your strategy.” 

“Well, how does one battle an opponent with more reach, then, if not directly?” Edelgard questioned. 

“Ah, that is not so simple as to be given away in a moment’s idle conversation.” 

“Then perhaps you could spare some time for me soon to give me a more in depth lesson?” Edelgard prodded, and Byleth couldn’t help but chuckle as she heard herself respond in the affirmative. 

So it seemed her and Edelgard really just couldn’t not connect with each other. There was some tiny reassurance in that, Byleth thought. 

No matter how many times she saw things go terribly wrong, her, Edelgard, and Catherine always seemed to find their way into each other's lives. Byleth didn’t give a rat’s ass how long she had to sit in this hell, she would make it back out to her version of everything. She’d find her girls, and she would tear the entire world apart if she needed to. Whatever it took to make sure she kept them safe. She’d find a goddess damned way. 

The Garreg Mach library had found itself in rather heavy use as of late, which came to many as a surprise with classes over due to the war dragging on as it did. But in fairness, its shelves were combed by a few select individuals more than the general population. While there were more publicly engaging events, such as Mercedes’ story hours for the local children, it was usually occupied either by Ferdinand or Hubert, and on rare occasions the both of them. However those days it was often the situation that not much studying or reading in any capacity was done. Whatever was done was a secret known only by Ferdinand, Hubert, and the mysteriously locked doors of the library on those quiet nights.

Other times, it would be Catherine pouring over the tomes looking for anything of interest to read between Edelgard’s meetings. The unread segment of the library devoted to plants was already dwindling in supply, and as such she had begun studying history. 

One other such regular amongst the library’s shelves was Marianne, and her subject matter was always the same: crests, the origins there of, and the history of the original lords that had been bestowed with such holy power. Marianne was, at that very moment in the late afternoon, combing over a book on the history of the bloodlines of the various noble houses. The poor woman was so lost in her study that she nearly leapt out of her own skin when she heard the voice of one of her teammates boom out beside her. 

“Hey, Marianne!” Leonie said as she walked up, a heavy tome in her hand as she ran up to the table. 

“Leonie, I think we’re meant to be quiet when we’re in the library.” Ashe whispered, earning an eye roll from her partner. 

“What am I going to do, scare the books?” Leonie took a seat across from Marianne, her book thudding onto the table. 

“No but by the way she jumped, you certainly startled Marianne.” Ashe said, gesturing to the chair beside Leonie as she faced Marianne. “Hey Mari, is it ok if we sit with you?” 

“I suppose.” Marianne mumbles, blushing a bit as she looked back to her own book, her eyes flicking over the covers of the texts in both of her team mate’s hands, and smiling a bit at the fact Leonie was apparently studying on how to care for her mount. 

“Well what’s got you so chipper lil miss sunshine?” Leonie asked, making Marianne blush yet again as she looked away. 

“N..nothing. I’m sorry, I was being rude.” Marianne mumbled. Leonie and Ashe looked between each other, concern evident on both women's faces. 

“Hey, Marianne you don’t gotta apologize. I wasn’t complaining, we just see you smile so rarely I was curious.” Leonie tried to reassure her. Marianne nodded, reaching over and tapping the cover of Leonie’s book. “Oh, my horse care book?” Marianne nodded again, that smile creeping back. “I didn’t even know you liked horses all that much.” Marianne nodded even more vigorously, bouncing just barely in her chair. Leonie smiled as she rested her elbows on the table. “Well why didn’t you mention that? I could’ve shown you my girl Lancealot when we were training a few months back!” Marianne looked a little embarrassed, but didn’t say anything. The conversation got a little awkward as they both waited for a response, until after a while Ashe and Leonie traded glances, and Leonie jerked her head slightly toward marianne, as if saying ‘go on, you’re better at this shit than me.’  
“Is um, talking a little hard right now?” Marianne nodded again, looking even more embarrassed. “Hey, that’s ok. Do you want some time to yourself? We can leave you be, and maybe we can train together again some time?” Marianne shook her head no, and the other two looked between themselves, both a bit confused. 

“Is that a no to the ‘us leaving’ or no to training together some other time?” Leonie watched as Marianne blushed and held up a single finger. “Oh, ok! Uh, well I mean if you want, I could tell you more about Lancelot?” Marianne nodded, doing that small bounce in her chair again. Ashe giggled at her partner as Leonie’s eyes lit up at the opportunity to talk about her cherished horse. “Ok! Well, her name is a pun, cus I ride her when I am using my lance primarily.” 

“Baby I don’t think that’s nearly as clever as you seem to think it is.” Ashe said, leaning back in her chair as she watched her partner pretend to pout. 

“Well at least my mount isn’t named after an enemy general.” Leonie shot back sticking her tongue out at Ashe. 

“Oh, real mature. You leave Seteth out of this, she is a good wyvern and does not deserve this slander.” Ashe shot back, before gesturing to Marianne. “Come on then, tell her more.” 

“Maybe I would if someone didn’t keep interrupting me.” Leonie drew out the ‘someone’ and laughed as Ashe looked at her in fake offense. Leonie shot Ashe a wink and turned back to Marianne. “Ok, so I ended up actually learning to ride a horse on Lancealot, during the school year. Dad had taught me how to fight with a lance and shoot a bow, but horses were sparse in my village so that took some more time. She has the most beautiful mane, but I swear her coat is so high maintenance. I have to brush her constantly or else it just gets matted, and she never ever sits still long enough for me to properly brush it out.” Marianne giggled at the exasperation in Leonie’s voice. 

“I wonder who that reminds me of.” Ashe mumbled. 

“What was that?” Leonie asked, leaning in close to Ashe. 

“Nothing sweety.” Ashe said, holding her glare with a confident smirk. 

“Ask your partner to help you brush your hair one time and she acts like you’re a slob. Can you believe this shit?” Leonie asks Marianne, gesturing to Ashe as she collapses back into her chair. 

“It’s not the hair brushing, it’s the fact we share a bedroom and it’s like, 99 percent your stuff on the floor.” Ashe teased, leaning in and giving Leonie a peck on the cheek. “Love you baby.” 

“Oh kiss my ass.” Leonie shot back, chuckling and returning the peck. “Love you too.” 

“You two are very sweet.” Marianne commented, still smiling as she watched the two bicker back and forth like an old married couple. 

“She speaks!” Leonie cheered, her attention now squarely focused on the blue haired girl. 

“Yes... I’m sorry, I’m sure that couldn’t have been very fun to deal with.” Marianne said, avoiding both of their eyes. 

“Hey, no apologies necessary.” Ashe assured. 

“Yeah, I mean talking and shit can be hard sometimes. I sometimes let my mouth move quicker then my head, so I tend to say a lot of stupid things more often then I’d like.” Leonie added with a shrug. “So, what were you doing in here before Ashe interrupted you?” Leonie seemed to not notice the glare that comment earned her, 

“Oh, I was simply studying.” Marianne commented, trying to avoid mentioning the subject and its importance to herself. 

“Oh cool.” Leonie said, gesturing to the book. “Can I see?” 

“Oh, Um, of course.” Marianne closed the book, hoping to hide the chapter she had been studying as she slid it across the desk to Leonie, who flipped through it a few pages at a time. 

“The Crest of Blaiddyd, the crest of Charron, the Crest of Cychol,...The Crest of Maurice?” Leonie read aloud, mostly mumbling to herself more than anything as she looked at the dog-eared page containing the title. Marianne had forgotten she’d done that. 

“Oh, I heard the legend of Maurice from Lonato growing up! That’s the noble lord who was said to have betrayed the goddess, and was condemned to an eternity wandering the world as a monster. It was said the curse was passed on through his blood, as well.” 

“Huh, well you know it says here-“ 

“I’m sorry but I really must be going.” Marianne said hurriedly as she snatched the books from Leonie’s hands, practically fleeing from the room.

Ashe and Leonie looked to each other, confused yet again. 

“Was it something I said?” Leonie asked, serious concern written on her face. 

“I don’t know, but she really must have needed to leave quickly. She left one of her books behind.” Ashe commented, picking up the remaining tome and reading the title aloud. “On the origins and mythologizing of modern crests and their origins.” 

“Goddess that sounds boring.” Leonie remarked. 

“I doubt it. Look at the mark on the spine, this one is one of the texts that Hubert found stored in the catacombs when we first took back Garreg Mach, the ones Seteth and the church banned for being too scandalous.” 

“Ooooh, now my interest is piqued. Maybe this is one of the smutty ones Manuela is always reading.” Leonie said eagerly. 

“I highly doubt that, my love.” Ashe said, opening the book. 

“Shut up and look up that Maurice guy.” Leonie prodded, poking Ashe in her side. 

“Ow, alright I’m on it… ok, here it is. On the Origins of the Crest of the Beast. Exile, damnation and the rewriting of interpersonal conflict in the history of the Church of Seiros.” Ashe read out the title of the section. 

“Wow whoever wrote this shit really loved to hear themselves speak didn’t they.” Leonie commented. 

“Babe, that doesn’t even make any sense. You read books not listen to them.” Ashe mumbled as she skimmed through the text. “Wait a minute, listen to this. ‘Having been raised in the forests of northern Faergus, Maurice was always more inclined to interactions with animals than with his fellow man, this habit often being seen as antisocial or even rude. However, when the time for conflict arose, Maurice was seen as a formidable opponent and a powerful ally, as his crest allowed him to shift into a large, reptilian creature who was not only large enough to combat several knights at once, but also equipped with a thick enough hide that he was nigh impervious in battle. Although still regarded as one of Seiros’s most devoted generals and almost never seen apart from Cichol, Maurice was seen as an outsider amongst the first bearers of the crests for the function in which he manifested. In the aftermath of war and as the crest system began solidifying into its modern form, tensions arose between Maurice and the others among his rank. While it is not known what caused it, manuscripts found during several un-approved delves into church archives have found documentation of a falling out between the leadership of the Church and Maurice that led to Seiros attacking Maurice with an unnamed magical strike that is believed to have trapped Maurice in his beast form indefinitely. Reports are still found to this day regarding sightings of a large reptilian beast heard screaming in pain.” Ashe read the final line and took a moment. 

“Well come on! Don’t stop there!” Leonie demanded. 

“Give me just a second. It starts going on about some weird scholarly bullshit… ‘while verification is little to none, all documented sightings of Maurice or the beast believed to be Maurice have coincided with the location of blood relatives said to contain his crest. It is believed that this seeming draw to his own kin has been a large source of the mythology of the ‘crest of the beast’ and the so called bad luck its bearers bring. In recent years, sightings have grown slim, and it is believed to be due to the dwindling few blood descendants remaining.’” 

“... Well shit.” Leonie muttered as she read the passage over Ashe’s shoulder. 

Catherine walked into the office, two bowls of food in her hands as she kicked the door shut behind her. 

“You’re back early.” Edelgard said, not looking up as she continued to scratch away at the heavy stacks of forms and letters. “Usually the only nights you’re back that quickly are when they’re serving steak and the kitchen staff kick you out for fear of depleting the entire beef supply.” 

“Very funny, Princess.” Catherine set a bowl on the corner of the table, as far away as possible from the paperwork as she could. She’d learned that lesson. “Vegetable pasta salad, heavy on the salt and pepper, light on the onion, and a splash of olive oil just how you like it. They had sorbet for dessert, so I snagged you an extra scoop.” Edelgard looked up, seeing the food set aside for her as Catherine walked to her usual chair, and then she noticed the fact Catherine was carrying her own food as well. 

“Oh, you didn’t eat downstairs with the others?” Edelgard asked, moving her papers aside as she spread her napkin over her lap. “I could have waited. You did not need to rush back on my behalf.” 

“Yeah, I know. But, well, I wanted to eat up here with you.” Catherine said, looking up from her bowl, a massive fork full of pasta slapped onto a slice of garlic bread in her hand. “I uh, just didn’t really have the energy for all the Eagles tonight.” Catherine quickly added. 

“Oh, are you feeling well?” Edelgard asked, concern evident in her expression as she noticed the faintest hint of red on Catherine’s cheeks. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, Princess. Just uh… just haven’t been sleeping much lately. Nightmares.” Catherine said, shoveling the horrifying concoction of carbs into her mouth, taking a moment to chew and swallow most of it down. “You should eat, before it gets cold.” 

“Catherine, it’s a salad, it’s meant to be cold.” Edelgard said with a giggle. Catherine rolled her eyes.

“Then eat it before it gets soggy after I go throw it in the pond, smartass.”

“Oh, ‘you seem to comment about my ass an awful lot. Is there something you need to tell me, Princess?’” Edelgard asked in her worst impression of Catherine. Catherine threw a chunk of bread at the Emperor, making the two break out in a fit of laughter as it bounced off of Edelgard’s forehead, landing on the ground with a plop as the garlic spread stuck if to the floor. “Very mature, Catherine.” 

“Be less of a shithead and I’ll throw less bread.” 

“I feel like ‘not throwing bread at your Emperor’ should be rather common sense to a bodyguard.” Edelgard shot back. 

“Whatever you say, My Emperor.” Catherine filled the words with such sarcasm it almost made it not seem like she enjoyed saying them. When Catherine rolled her eyes and looked away, Edelgard grabbed a bit of pasta off her plate with her spoon and flicked it, lobbing the noodles into Catherine’s face. “Oh you little shit! Some of that fell into my armor.” 

“‘Be more polite and I’ll fling less pasta.’” Edelgard said with a self-satisfied grin as she went back to her dinner. Catherine rolled her eyes and went to her own meal, popping a book from the small stack by her chair and laying it on the table, reading as she ate. 

Catherine wasn’t quite sure when she stopped hearing Edelgard’s pen scribbling on paper, but she thought little of it at first. Usually that meant some lord had sent some asinine request and Edelgard was just confused on how to reply, so she reread and reread until it started to make some sort of sense, it never worked but she did it nonetheless. 

However, after quite some time of no pen scratching, and a notable lack of muttered curse words, Catherine looked up from her book, her plate long since emptied and slid aside, and saw Edelgard asleep with her head resting on her arms. Catherine laughed and shook her head, standing up from her chair and stretching. She saw the time on the clock, nearly half past midnight. Damn, she had really gotten lost in that book. 

Catherine walked over to her Emperor, knocking on the desk by Edelgard’s head. That usually woke her up when she fell asleep on the job, and it was usually followed by a remark to the effect of ‘go the fuck to sleep’ from Catherine. But this time Edelgard barely stirred, mumbling something under her breath as she remained asleep. Catherine leaned down, gently shaking Edelgard’s shoulder, trying to whisper and wake her up. 

“Hey, Princess, come on, let’s get you somewhere you can, well, actually sleep.” Catherine said softly. 

“I’m just… resting my eyes. Leave me alone.” Edelgard mumbled, barely loud enough for Catherine to hear. 

“Come on, Princess. You’re clearly tired. Go the fuck to sleep.” Catherine said at her usual speaking voice. 

“I was asleep, you ass.” 

“In a bed, like an actual bed.” Catherine added, rolling her eyes. 

“The desk is fine.” Edelgard yawned, her eyes fluttering before closing again. 

“So you’re just going to sleep on the desk?” 

“I’m not moving. So unless you feel like carrying me, yes.” Edelgard said, glowering at the knight, which was surprising since her eyes reamined closed. Catherine rubbed her eyes, dragging her hands slowly down her face in exasperation. This was so not in her job description. 

Or was it? She’d never actually thought to check. 

“Fine.” Catherine said, leaning down, scooping one arm under Edelgard’s knees as the other hand, very carefully, hooked around the back of her midsection, hefting the red-clad emperor into the air like a bag of potatoes. Edelgard’s eyes went wide as she felt herself being lifted, and for a second Catherine felt more terror then she had at any moment in her life, and that was saying something. But, a second later Edelgard seemed to snap back to her exhausted self, her head flopping down against Catherine’s shoulder as she sunk deeper into her grasp. “Wow, you’re really that stubbornly committed to the bit?” Catherine whispered, noticing a self-satisfied smile cross Edelgard’s tired face as she nodded. “I respect that.” 

Edelgard could hear as Catherine sighed as she walked the both of them out of the office and toward the dormitories. She was somewhere, lost in the grey area between asleep and not, and found herself rather comfortable. This was different then when she had woken up in Byleth’s arms, or even when she had to be carried after her ‘incident’ when she had woken up and cracked her Professor in the jaw. Byleth’s arms had felt like tout cables under her skin, and while she had not been rough, Catherine clearly put a bit more thought into how she held her ‘cargo’. Edelgard could feel the way Catherine pulled her just a little bit closer as she walked through doorways, and the way she felt her stomach shift as she seemed to try and cushion the jostle as she walked down the steps of the Administrative building. Catherine also smelled very different than Byleth had. Not that Edelgard was smelling her, of course. But the scent of honey, mead and the oil of her armor was quite an interesting combination. It felt appropriate. 

Edelgard hated how much that thought made her stomach turn and her heart flutter. She wondered if she might feel guilty. When Catherine had first awoken her, she had sincerely been that determined to just remain in her desk. When Catherine had picked her up, she’d awoken from the startle of it quite thoroughly. 

Being lifted was something she still found very, very nerve-racking. But, after a second, she found herself strangely comforted by the feeling of Catherine’s arms around her. She didn’t want to be put back down. Did that make her a bad person? Using Catherine like some sort of hybrid of a pack mule, ferrying her to her chambers when she was too lazy to walk, and a stuffed animal to help her feel just a little less lonely? 

A while later, and Catherine was hefting Edelgard up the stairs of the dormitory, awkwardly fumbling with the door to Edelgard’s room as she tried to not smack Edelgard’s head against the doorframe. She laid Edelgard on top of the covers, grabbing a quilt folded at the foot of the bed and throwing it over her before quickly walking out of the room. 

Edelgard curled up in the blanket, worrying that she’d made Catherine uncomfortable. She needed to be better. She should’ve just walked herself to her room, and not pushed that boundary the way she had. 

She should have better control of her emotions, better control of what she wanted. How could she want Catherine the way she knew she did when there was only so long she had left? It was little more than selfishness. 

Edelgard von Hresvelg was many things, but selfish would never be one of them. 

Catherine sat on the stoop outside of Byleth’s room, legs draped over the side as she tried to let the warm summer night air sooth her mind. She ran her fingers through her hair, messing it up before smoothing it back down as she struggled to reign in her thoughts. 

The hell was she doing? Picking Edelgard up like that was a shithead move, and it was so fucking creepy of her to have been in Edelgard’s room while she was asleep like that. Who does that? Creepy old dudes, that’s who. She was better than that. She had to be. 

“What the hell am I even thinking?” Catherine muttered to herself, spinning the short-spear made from Joe’s old hammer around like a baton. “Edelgard is 21. I’m… fucking hell do I really turn 30 in a few months? Goddess, I’m fucking old. Edelgard deserves better than being creeped on by her old bitch of a bodyguard. My main job is to keep that girl safe until Byleth gets back, and I probably just made her feel more unsafe with me around than when she was just alone.” Catherine shook her head, putting her face in her hands as she groaned. “Come on, Cat, you’re fucking better than this. So what if she’s cute, and smart, and funny, and the way she smiles when she thinks she’s won an argument makes your heart skip a beat…” Catherine slapped herself across the face, standing quickly and moving down the stairs as she undid her armor. “Fucking hell, I need to get this shit of and go jump into the damn fish pond. Maybe that will calm me down.” 

It didn’t, although the night guardsman who saw the little stunt got quite the kick out of her late night swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall! So suprise! Yearning has started early! Lmao, I promise these two won't be pining the entire time skip, but I think y'all will like the route I take this. As I mentioned before, I'll sadly have to maintain the 15-20 page updates for a little while longer, but hopefully once everything is settled I'll have enough backlog to feel comfortable posting full chapters again. I really really wanna hear everyone's reactions to this week tho, just because DAMN I really enjoyed writing that scene at the end. Gotta love a characters most endearing trait (Edelgard's selflessness and Catherine's protectiveness) becoming their downfall! 
> 
> Hope y'all are ready for the next two updates! Cus the Pining and Angst train is coming in at full speed! Choo Choo motherfuckers! Welcome to  
> pain!
> 
> Somewhere to Belong: A trans wlw/mlm relationship zine (@3hTransZine on Twitter! ) has officially opened mod apllications! If you're interested, come check it out! https://t.co/60m2iSrTvs?amp=1
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage and check out Somewhere to Belong, a FETH Trans wlw/mlm zine @3HTransZine


	31. Chapter 30: Bittersweet Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, I’d hate to be a bother, but I’m afraid this is a toll road. The price being one dance with your old man.” 
> 
> “That’s highway robbery.” Byleth taunted, reaching out and taking Jeralt’s hand. 
> 
> ‘Yep. Downright diabolical, aren’t I, kiddo?” Jeralt said, as they both moved to the tune of the music lilting out of the dance hall, the slightly muffled strings making a ghostly melody for them as they found a comfortable rhythm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the late update! Here's this week's half chapter! Late for dnd bye!

Chapter 30

Catherine’s jaw ached. Everything in her ached. Her muscles, her bones, her blood itself burned in her veins as she felt an unbearable heat boiling her alive. She couldn’t figure where it was coming from, but her body was left coated in sweat and panting for breath, engulfed in darkness and struggling to breath. 

Blood. Blood is all she is, blood is all she knows. She has been bathed in it, drank it, drowned in it, felt it overwhelm her and flood out of her into the open air. 

She felt as if her back had been torn open, her ribs and the length of her spine exposed to open air while her muscles leaked blood down the rest of her. 

The world was muffled, she could hear nothing except the brush of something soft against her skin every few seconds and a distant moan. 

She was on her back. Why was she on her back? 

Then there’s light. No images, just the vague knowledge of light. Her eyes are closed. When she opens them, she’s staring at the roof of the office, Rhea’s office. 

“My oh my.” A sickly sweet voice says to her. “You are insatiable, Sir Cassandra.” Rhea curls up beside her, and Catherine realizes she can’t move. 

“Catherine.” The knight shoots up from her seat, awakened by the sound of Edelgard’s voice calling her name. She feels something on her arm, and her head snaps over to see it’s Edelgard’s hand, reassuring as it rests on her. 

Catherine wipes her lower jaw with the sleeve of her uniform, wiping away a wet that isn’t there, no matter how real it had felt in her dream. She moves and wipes the cold sweat from her forehead next, catching her breath as she feels the carriage around them bump along the road. “The nightmares?” Edelgard asks the question, already knowing the answers that Catherine affirms with a nod. “Do you wish to discuss it?” 

“I don’t know… I shouldn’t have fallen asleep anyway. It’s the first time out of the monastery in months. I ought to be on alert.” Catherine muttered. Resting her hand on the handle of her lance. 

“You were exhausted. I could tell you needed the rest, so I let you have it while we had the time.” Edelgard was firm in her decision. “And you are dodging the question. If you do not wish to talk about it, I understand.” 

Catherine looks at Edelgard, and sighs as she leans back in her seat. She is beside Edelgard, little more than a few inches of bare scarlet cushion between them. The carriage is a massive, ornate beast, and Edelgard despised it. She was rather vocal in her hatred of opulence. Catherine laid her head back, resting it against wood. 

“It was about Rhea.” 

“I’m… I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I… I don’t like talking about this sort of thing, but I feel better when it’s done.” Catherine kicked herself mentally for how creepy that must sound. 

“I see. How have you been faring, dealing with the dreams?” 

“I think it would be better if it wasn’t all so cloudy. If I could tell what was just a nightmare from memory. Now, it’s just both, and the worst parts of the first are inseparable from the most mundane parts of the second. I can’t tell what things she did to me, and what are just the horrors my mind cooks up for me.’ Catherine steadies her shaking hands by wrapping them around her lance as she feels that hand on her shoulder again. She doesn’t look at Edelgard this time. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t be the one getting all emotional right now.” 

“Catherine, you’re fine.” Edelgard assures, pulling her hand back, unsure if holding it on as long as she had would cross some sort of line. 

“How are you holding up, Princess?” Catherine asks. 

“I’m fine. It’s difficult, to be sure, but not unexpected.” Edelgard can see the chuckle in Catherine’s shoulders, but she doesn’t hear it. 

“You’re a terrible fucking liar.” Catherine doesn’t even think that perhaps Edelgard is a fine liar, she has simply grown quite skilled at reading her. Spending nine months as someone’s shadow can give you a surprising amount of insight into a person. Edelgard rests her hands in her lap. 

“I… it hurts.” Edelgard confesses. “My father and I have been the sole survivors of the Hresvelg family for so long. It has been us against the world, even when I was away at school, and knew my father was held in the control of the 7, I knew that I still had him. He tried to help us when they took my siblings and I to the dungeon, and in return he was put through such hell that he lays dying before most men would even be turning grey. When I returned, it was him and I who stood and watched as every wife he had ever known, every woman I’d ever called mother, withered away under the weight of their grief and then perished. Now he lays on his deathbed, and soon enough I will be the last Hresvelg. I will be left well and truely alone.” Edelgard sniffled as she drew a handkerchief from a small pocket in her gown, dabbing at the tears on her cheeks. She felt something rest on her knee, and turned to see Catherine’s hand sat atop it. Catherine seemed to be doing her best version of a reassuring smile. 

“You’re not alone out here, Edelgard.” Catherine seemed to realize then where her hand was, and pulled it back quickly, scratching at the back of her head. “You’ve got, you know, Hubert and Lysithea and Letty.” ‘and me.’ Catherine wanted to add, but thought better of it. Maybe if she had thought for longer than a second and not put her hand on Edelgard’s knee, she might, but now it just felt awkward. Creepy even. 

Or maybe that was just her. 

Edelgard looked away, toying with the fabric of her dress as she thought about what Catherine had said. In particular, on one of the names she had mentioned. That seemed a favorable way to ignore the strange flutter in her stomach at that moment. 

Lysithea. That name brought a bitter taste to her mouth. 

It had been early that same morning, right between when they’d finished training with the Black Eagles and as they were preparing for the move from Garreg Mach to Enbarr. While Catherine was loading the luggage into the carriage, Edelgard had been double checking her desk, ensuring that all of the papers she had hoped to work on during their short trip were properly packed in the small red messenger bag she’d planned to use for them. 

Lysithea had not knocked when she walked in, but the creak of the door hinges gave her away. When Edelgard turned to see her, the younger woman was rather plainly agitated, chewing on her cheek with such voracity that Edelgard worried she might bite clean through the flesh. 

“Hey, Edelgard.” Lysithea said, solemn but unwavering. “We need to talk.” 

“I apologize, Lysithea, but I am rather in a hurry. I am leaving for Enbarr at the top of the hour, and I’m sure Catherine will be returning any moment now to inform me our things have been loaded.” 

“Well, I’d say i’m sorry to be a bother, but I’m not. You’ve been avoiding me for months, and you are going to speak with me.” Lysithea said, stamping her foot on the ground, making Edelgard furrow her brow. Lysithea could be obtuse at times, but this was something she hadn’t seen in her before. “Have you thought any more about what we talked about, at tea.” At the mention of the previous conversation, Edelgard went stiff. 

“I told you, Lysithea, I need to be leaving. I will kindly ask you to see yourself out.” 

“And I will very unkindly tell you that is not going to happen!” Lysithea declared. “You have dodged and avoided me and clearly avoided the subject matter, so I’m going to stand here and you’re going to talk to me. I will not be discarded like yesterday’s filth just because you refuse to discuss the fact we’re dying!” Lysithea was beyond the point of upset. She was furious and unafraid to show it. 

“Lysithea, please.” Edelgard’s voice was not what it should have been. Lysithea had stormed up here knowing that Edelgard likely would try to shove her out. She’d planned to yell, she’d planned to be yelled at in return. But what came from Edelgard was something akin to a plea for mercy. 

“Edelgard, this problem won’t go away just because you ignore it.” 

“Do you think I don’t know that? I’m very, very well acquainted with death, Lysithea. We both are, and I am on my way to make her acquaintance once again.” 

“Then if you are so keenly educated on the subject, why are you so damned incessant on avoiding it? You have some of the most gifted healers at your fingertips here in the Monastery. Not to mention Linhardt and his study of crests, as well as all of the books and archives made available after this place was seized.” 

“I can’t take resources from the war effort.” Lysithea balked at the flimsy response. 

“Edelgard, a healer and a scholar are not going to cost you the war.” 

“You don’t know that!” Edelgard screamed back, tear’s once again at the corner of her eyes. 

“Edelgard, why are you making such flimsy excuses! We can fight this, you and I, together! We can find a way to fight back and make our lives our own again!” Lysithea saw Edelgard’s shoulders slump as she spoke, and it was only then that she realized how truly drained Edelgard looked. 

“Lysithea… I’m so tired of fighting. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had to fight. I had to fight to survive in the dungeons, and then fight to survive in the capital once I was free, and now we fight to build something better. It needs to be done, but I’m so tired. I just want something in my life to be easy and simple, and yet now I know that in a decade, maybe less, my heart beating and my waking up each morning will not even be simple. I just… Lysithea, what if this is the one fight that I just can’t win?” Edelgard’s eyes pleaded for some sort of answer, but all they saw was rage and pain.

“Well boo fucking hoo. This isn’t just about you, Edelgard.” Lysithea scolded. “Do you think I am not keenly aware of how it feels to be exhausted by this? To desperately wish I could push it aside? I’ve been preparing for my own death since I was a child. You’re not the only one dealing with this. If they can heal you, then maybe they can heal me too. I don’t want to die!” Lysithea’s voice cracked, and she wiped a tear with the palm of her hand, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “I don’t want to wither away and rot. I want to live and not worry about leaving my family with enough to survive, to not worry about preparing my own funeral proceedings. I want to live selfishly for myself for once. I want to be foolish and brash and not worry that it’ll lessen my already short time in this world. I want to make mistakes without being afraid that I’ll never be able to repair them. I… I want to fall in love and fall out of it without worrying that time I wasted may never be made up. Life is never a certainty, but I want to stop living where my early death is, Edelgard. I know it isn’t fun to hear, but get your fucking head out of your ass! I’m not going to die just because you don’t want to acknowledge that you will.” Lysithea didn’t say a word more as she stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her. She walked through the double doors of the Audience Chamber and was preparing to stomp out and release her rage on some unfortunate training dummies, only to see a tired eyed Catherine sat on the floor, back leaned against the door frame. Lysithea went to speak, but Catherine raised a finger to her own lips. 

“It’s rude to eavesdrop.” Lysithea whispered. Catherine leaned her head back, sighing as the crown of her head rested against the cold stone.

“How long does she have?” That was not what Lysithea had expected, but as she looked at the woman, she realized she shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Less than a decade. At best.” Catherine nodded along, her adam’s apple bobbing as she swallowed, as if drinking down the sick news. “Perhaps she’ll listen to you if you tell her to get help.” 

“You’d have better luck getting a bear to listen to a stick.” 

“What the hell does that even mean?” Lysithea wondered as Catherine stood. 

“It means keep your fucking voice down. I shouldn’t even know about this, clearly she didn’t want me to. So, if anyone ever asks, I don’t. If she brings it up… I’ll try.” Lysithea rolled her eyes. 

“You’re just fucking perfect for eachother, you’re both stubborn idiots.” Lysithea whisper-yelled as she stormed off. 

Catherine sighed and rubbed her eyes, dragging her hands down her face and trying her best to put herself back into a mindset where nothing was wrong, where everything was just fine. She felt like a jackass for having overheard what she did, and so she just pretended she didn’t hear it as she walked into the office. 

“Hey, Princess, we’re all loaded up.” Catherine said, her cocky half-grin plastered onto her face. Edelgard said she needed something simple and easy, right? Catherine could do that. She’d been called simple enough times, maybe this time it could be a good thing. 

“Thank you, Catherine. I’ll be out in just a minute.” Edelgard said, looking at the papers on her desk to avoid having to meet Catherine’s eyes. 

Catherine was shaken from her recollection by the literal shaking of the carriage around them. 

“Fuck, get your axe.” Catherine said, feeling the carriage crawl to a halt. “I think someone just shot the driver.” Catherine pulled her silver half-spear from her back, drawing the shortsword from her hip with the other hand and waiting as Edelgard pulled Aymar from the gap between the seat and the wall. Catherine noticed a grimace on her face as she reached for the weapon, and a second of hesitation as she pulled it free. 

They listened for any sound of approaching footsteps, hearing a set of steps moving up from the south. Catherine pointed to the opposite side of the carriage, and Edelgard nodded, hefting her axe back and swinging it into the wood, making an audible crack. Several pairs of footsteps scampered toward that side, thinking someone was trying to escape out the back before they noticed, only for Catherine to pop out of the door, weapons at the ready. 

They were in a clearing, right at a curve in the road. Catherine should have seen it coming. This was a perfect spot for an ambush. She’d let her mind wander and now they were all screwed. The sound of rushing steps, and Catherine ducked a swipe from an attacking soldier’s blade, parrying it with her shortsword and standing from her squat to hurl the weapon up. The attacker kept hold of his sword, but seemed thrown off his stance, and Catherine took the chance to seize the advantage, dropping down and forward, she dragged the shortsword along the back of the man’s knee, sending him to the ground screaming. She bashed the handle of her spear into the side of his head, spinning the weapon in her palm and striking at his neck with the blade, carving through with ease and splattering the ground with red. 

She could hear the quick steps of the man’s allies, and knew that if she ended up surrounded, she and Edelgard were as good as dead. The Emperor in question was already on her own way out of the carriage, crawling through a window in the roof and praying that Catherine kept them occupied enough that she wouldn’t be noticed until she struck. 

Catherine could see two sets of legs moving toward her from one side, and knew that would be the side to clear first. As the duo approached around the corner, Catherine leapt to action, slamming one of the men with her shoulder, knocking him off his stance as she faced his ally. He rolled out of the path of Catherine’s half-lance, resulting in the weapon lodging in the side of the carriage. As she tried to pull it free, she felt his sword carve her arm open. 

She abandoned the weapon, taking the shortsword and using it to deflect the next attack, aiming to sweep the man’s leg only to have him hop back, using his longer blade to his advantage and moving to skewer her. She stepped out of the way, and as he moved to pull the missed strike back, Catherine’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him closer and impaling him through his stomach on the shortsword she held, pulling it back and driving it through his skull. He dropped to the ground, and Catherine pulled her sword from his skull and his sword from his bloodied hands. 

Another flash of pain, and Catherine felt blood dripping down her side as she spun, the enemy she’d knocked back having struck while she was trying to pull her lance free. Catherine blocked with her shortsword, cleaving the attacking limb at the elbow with the dead man’s sword and jamming her ankle into the mans chest, sending him stumbling back before she buried the blade through his thin blue-dyed leather chest piece, impaling him where he lay. She turned around as saw as the duo of corpse’s allies were charging her, one wielding a bone lance and leading quite a bit ahead of the others. 

Edelgard was happy to take advantage of that divide as she leapt from the roof, landing atop one soldier as she spun and buried her axe into the throat of another. The man at the lead turned, raising his weapon to strike, and Catherine moved without hesitation, charging and tackling him from behind, sending them off of the path, rolling down the side of the hill as Edelgard was flung off of the assailant she’d been standing atop. The Emperor rolled through in the dirt, pushing herself back up to her feet as she saw a massive beast of a man stand from the ground, unarmed save for a set of heavy iron bands across his knuckles. 

The brawler charged her, fist intent to smash clear through her skull had she not been able to raise Aymar in time to block, the sound of iron on bone making Edelgard’s ears ring. Another punch, another block barely able to stop it, another punch, yet another block, and a fourth punch was finally what it took to make an opening. As the man stumbled back, Edelgard drove her knee into the attacker’s groin, making a gap as she slammed the flat of Aymar’s handing into the man’s forehead, sending him stumbling back. She saw him try to right himself, lobbing a sloppy punch at her. When Edelgard went to block, the man’s fist actually somehow went through the gap in the center of the weapon, causing his fist to smash into Edelgard’s cheek. But, in her daze Edelgard stepped back, her weapon yanking suddenly and burrying several large spikes of bone into the brawler’s forearm. A second later, Edelgard ripped the weapon back with all her might, tearing clean through the limb and sending the brawler to his knees screaming. Aymar gleamed in her hand as she raised it, the weight of it driving behind her swing and entering at his left clavicle before exiting through the right side just above his hip, splitting him in two.

Edelgard was left desperately panting for air, as she heard slow, methodical footsteps coming around the corner of the carriage. 

“So, this is the savage brutality of the empire.” A woman said, walking up from around the corner of the carriage, a lance in hand. She had short blonde hair, tied in two spots with green bows. She wore silver armor, over bright green cloth. “It’s been some time, hasn’t it Edelgard?”

“Spare me your pleasantries, Ingrid.” Edelgard said through heavy breaths. “I have neither time nor patience for them.” 

“Hm, stubborn as your reputation makes you out to be. But I’d have expected you to have grown more in the time since the Academy.” Ingrid taunted, weapon at the ready. Edelgard grit her teeth. 

“Do you wish to fight, or merely prattle on you insipid bitch?” Edelgard asked, knowing the answer as she saw the scowl on Ingrid’s face. 

“I’d expect such crude language from a savage like you. I’ll make you pay for the brutality your damned servants forced upon His Highness.” Ingrid said through grit teeth. 

Catherine stood quickly, looking at the man she had just charged. He had fiery red hair, slicked back into messy spikes. 

“Sylvain.” Catherine greeted, spitting a glob of blood onto the forest floor, and not missing the large bone lance he still held in his hands while both of hers were empty. She could feel Thunderbrand’s weight on her shoulders, but she held steady, seeing her shortsword buried in the ground behind Sylvain. 

“Catherine? I’ll admit, I’m shocked to see Lord Jackson was telling the truth. He told us you’d betrayed the Kingdom, but I had not believed it possible for a corpse to hold so little backbone. Guess I was wrong.” Sylvain mused, a shit eating grin on his face. . 

“I sadly seem to have misplaced my backbone. Several other bones, in fact.” Catherine taunted, her face smeared in dirt, grime, and gore. “Care to lend me some of yours?” 

“What’s become of you, Catherine? You really think you have a chance in hell at winning this?” Sylvain asked, his lance growing bright as he seemed to try and intimidate her. 

“Doesn’t matter what I think. You’re not getting anywhere near Edelgard.” 

“Are you really so lost? I remember the days when you were the most pompous preacher of ‘the goddess’s love’. It was honestly beyond annoying, but you’ve got to be missing home. Come with us. We’re intent to bring Edelgard back alive, she won’t be hurt if you both just cooperate.” 

“If you think she or I would ever walk willingly out of here with you you’re as dumb as you look. I’ve felt quite enough of the ‘goddess’s love’, Sylvain. I’ll die before going back.” 

“Then die, you crazy bitch. I don’t have time for this shit.” Sylvain exclaimed, running to meet Catherine where she was, intent to lodge the Lance of Ruin into her skull and finally shut her up. Catherine managed to avoid the first strike, punching Sylvain in the stomach as she did so, but sadly that seemed to phase him little as he turned on his heel and attack with the handle of his lance instead of the head. Catherine felt the wood handle slam into her ribs, sending her toppling to the ground, landing inches from her weapon. Catherine moved, rolling to the side and barely avoiding being skewered through her kidney by the lance. From her back, Catherine kicked up, lodging both of her heels into Sylvain’s stomach and shoving him back and up, off his feet. Sylvain hit the ground with a thud, and grumbled to himself as he pushed back up to his feet. “I see your new title has been well earned.” He said, turning to see Catherine wielding her paltry shortsword. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Catherine demanded, shortsword raised, ready to fight. 

“Thunder Catherine had fallen out of use when you were believed to be dead. Lady Rhea had turned you into quite the martyr for her little holy war, in fact. For some time, you were lauded as damn near a saint.” Sylvain said, an evil grin on his lips. “But when lord Jackson came back saying you’d betrayed your church and your goddess, you earned a much more fitting title. The Feral Bitch of House Hresvelg.” Sylvain grinned at the rage that drew to Catherine’s eyes, as the woman growled and closed the gap between them, intent to carve the smirk off, nearly paying her arm as the price of losing her control. Sylvain swung his weapon, carving into the flesh and nearly reaching bone. Catherine fell screaming, and Sylvain didn’t waste a second before moving to finish her off. 

Then there was a flash of red and suddenly there was a five foot two stack of red-clad rage standing between him and Catherine wielding a bloody axe, and that was the moment Sylvain wasted, stepping back, raising his lance, ready to protect himself. 

“Your allies are dead or fleeing.” Edelgard declared. “I’d suggest you leave like Ingrid before joining the rest.” 

Sylvain looked over to the side, as if staring at the woods for guidance, only to turn back as if about ready to strike. 

An arrow struck the dirt at Sylvain’s feet, making both himself and Edelgard jump a bit in surprise. Sylvain looked in the direction the arrow had come from, where he had just been looking a second earlier, and as he looked back to Edelgard, he began slowly backing away. 

“You two sure know how to have a good time, but I’m afraid this is my goodbye.” Sylvain muttered, disappearing into the woods. 

Edelgard faced where the shot had come from as Catherine pushed herself up, grabbing her shortsword and standing on shaky legs as she looked at the arrow. After a second her lips pulled into a small smile. 

“You can relax, Princess.” Catherine muttered, walking over to the arrow. 

“Catherine, don’t move! There’s an archer out there somewhere.” Edelgard ordered. 

“Yeah, an archer who just told her teammate that he’s riding solo into any fight he has with us.” Catherine said, yanking the arrow from the ground. 

“And how exactly can you tell that?” Catherine held up the arrow, the back of which was fletched with blue feathers. 

“Because, there’s only one archer on this continent that fletches her arrows with Dagdan Bluehawk feathers.” Catherine muttered, seemingly unaware of her other arm pouring blood. “Hey, Mimi, long time no see…” Catherine whispered as if speaking to the arrow before looking off into the gap in the treeline. Knowing how Shamir had operated when they were together, Catherine could spot the exact place Shamir would have placed herself. There was a perch in a tree that, if she was right, would’ve given Shamir a perfect vantage point to take out the driver and then watch the fight. There was no one there. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into.” Catherine whispered again before turning back to Edelgard. “We should probably head back to the carriage. I hope you know how to drive the damn thing. 

“What, you can fly a wyvern but not drive a carriage?” Edelgard asked as they climbed back up the hill. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly fuckin’ it, Princess.” Catherine said.

“Oh for the goddess’s sake. Get back here. Your arm is bleeding everywhere, and I’d prefer you be conscious in case any reinforcements arrive.” Edelgard said, reaching out and taking Catherine’s hand, quickly opening the cut in her sleeve, exposing the deep wound. A few seconds longer, and Catherine felt the flow of healing magic through her, and could see the wound stitch shut as Edelgard focused on it. 

They stood there for some time as the gash became a cut, a scratch, and then a scar. Catherine looked up from the very obviously heeled wound and saw Edelgard still cradling her arm gently between both of her red-clad hands. Their eyes met, and there was an instant that felt like an hour where the two both seemed to offer a step forward, one which neither of them took. 

Catherine nervously jerked her arm back, scratching at the back of her head. 

“Goddess, I’m not used to having my hair out this long. It’s so, uh, itchy.” She quickly added, moving up to the carriage. “Come on, Princess, let’s uh… Let’s get on the road.” 

“Oh! Yes, of course.” Edelgard said, internally slapping herself in the forehead. She was an Emperor, for the goddess’s sake, and the simplest emotions seemed to utterly overtake her. She needed to get her head on properly and let things be. 

“Catherine…” Shamir muttered to herself, having changed her vantage points when she’d noticed the former knight in question moving to pick up her arrow. “What in the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

“You’re a real stellar team mate, you know that, Shammy?” Sylvain asked, stumbling through the woods into the small gap Shamir was kneeling at between two trees. 

“You’re one to talk, you skirt chaser.” Ingrid added, throwing a rock at Sylvain’s head as she stitched a gash in her shoulder. 

“The hell happened to you?” Sylvain asked, gesturing to the curved wound, or rather the arc of several small wounds, that she was currently repairing. 

“The target had a damned wyvern tailing her this entire time. Thing dropped down in the middle of our fight, and I got flung into a tree. I ran when I could.” 

“Well maybe if we’d had a bit better cover from, oh, I don’t know, the member of our team specifically here to cover us we could’ve gotten our shit done!” Sylvain said loudly, clearly implying Shamir. 

“Well congratulations.” Shamir said, standing and shoving the man out of her path as she finished watching the carriage depart. “I’m no longer your teammate.” 

“What? Quitting just like that? Is it because of Catherine?” Sylvain asked, looking as the archer marched off, turning back to him briefly. 

“No sylvain, it’s because you bore me and infuriate me in equal measure, and I know were I to travel back to Faergus with you I’d likely kill you and have to leave the church anyway. Now, at least, I have something more interesting to follow.” Shamir said, leaving the redheaded man standing in an empty field in enemy territory as Ingrid stood, pulling her armor back into place and grimacing at the sting of pressure on the stitches.

“Damnit, come on. We can’t afford to lose her too.” Ingrid said, grabbing her lance and moving to follow Shamir. 

“What the fuck?!” Sylvain exclaimed to himself, arms outstretched in utter exasperation.

Byleth stood outside of the dance hall, taking a deep breath of the cool night air as she dusted off the front of her uniform. 

“Abandoning the ball so early? Usually you at least make it a few hours into the night before walking off to sulk.” Sothis pestered, and Byleth chuckled to herself, while the version of her living this simply grumbled. 

“I tire of the dance. It’s too… disturbing, dancing with people whom I have killed in another life.” Byleth heard herself mutter. “Besides, I have heard so much of this ‘goddess tower’, the past few attempts through, perhaps it is time I go and look at what all the fuss is about.” 

“Ah, very nice. At least you’re not such a bore. I do enjoy you more and more as you learn to actually have a bit of personality.” Sothis remarked. 

“Oh, Professor!!” Byleth heard Dimitri call, seeing him wandering over, his uniform clean and proper as ever. “I was wondering where you had run off to.” 

“I was here.” Byleth replied, and Sothis muttered a comment about her point about Byleth’s personality potentially being a bit premature. 

“Well, I can see that, haha.” Dimitri said, gesturing to Byleth. “I had thought perhaps you’d run off to go find Catherine.” Dimtri remarked, earning a weak chuckle from his professor. 

“Now, Dimitri, I think you have better things to do than worry about my whereabouts. Catherine is away on a mission. Perhaps you ought to go and see if your sister might want to dance.” Byleth said, pointing back to the dance hall. 

“Ah, so you remembered, hahaha.” Dimitri said, almost seeming a bit awkward. “In truth, I can not find her either.”

“Then perhaps you ought to go see about Claude, it seems like you are rather good ‘friends’ with him as of late.” Byleth laughed to herself as she watched Dimitri’s face break out in a blush. 

‘Ah, perhaps you are mistaken, professor. You see… um… Oh, I apologize professor. I think I hear Ingrid calling my name, she must be looking for me.” Dimitri said, hurriedly rushing off. 

“‘Ah so you remembered’.” Sothis repeated, like it was a sort of joke. “As if it is a detail you haven’t agonized over for weeks now.” 

“Shush, Sothis. He has no reason to know of that. But, it is a good tool to have at our disposal. Perhaps that tie could be the secret to making Edelgard yield in this damned fool of a war before she has to die for it.” Byleth thought, walking toward the tower. 

“Perhaps. But you seem to so constantly look for a missing puzzle piece to solve this all, when I must wonder if it even exists.” Sothis observed. 

“There has to be a way.” Byleth muttered. “I can not lose my friend again. I have slain her too many times, and each time I try to make her yield to no avail. It’s infuriating, but I will not quit.” 

“Yes, all of that is very admirable, to go so far for a ‘friend’.” Sothis mused, and Byleth could practically hear the exhausted eye roll in her voice. 

“Hey, kid.” Byleth heard, turning to see her father leaning against the wall. “Running off already?” 

“I was intending to, although it seems someone tries to stop me every few steps.” Byleth heard herself taunt back, making Jeralt smile. Byleth missed seeing her father’s smile, and each time she watched the school year play out she watched him die, over and over again, she learned to cherish it all the more. The knowledge of what would happen that next morning made the sight of her father extending his hand, offering a dance, all the more bitter sweet. 

“Well, I’d hate to be a bother, but I’m afraid this is a toll road. The price being one dance with your old man.” 

“That’s highway robbery.” Byleth taunted, reaching out and taking Jeralt’s hand. 

‘Yep. Downright diabolical, aren’t I, kiddo?” Jeralt said, as they both moved to the tune of the music lilting out of the dance hall, the slightly muffled strings making a ghostly melody for them as they found a comfortable rhythm. “I’m proud of you, Byleth.” Jeralt said as they settled into their dance. 

“For paying your outrageous toll?” 

“No, for the work you’ve been doing with your kids. This world is a cold, hard place, and you’ve put a lot into making sure those student’s of yours are ready for it.” 

“What can I say,” Byleth heard herself begin. “I learned from the best.” 

“Awe, come on kid, you’re gonna make your old man cry. I just tried to do what a good dad should, to make it so that you can face this world, and not need me there with you when you do it.” 

“I’m always gonna need you, dad.” Byleth muttered, resting her head on her father’s shoulder. 

“That’s not true, Byleth. You haven’t needed me for quite some time.” 

“You’re wrong.” Byleth heard her voice crack, bunching the fabric of her father’s tunic in her hands as she felt her tears leech into his shirt. “I love you dad. I don’t know how to make it in a world where you aren’t there.” Jeralt slowed the dance, reaching a hand up and slowly stroking Byleth’s hair. 

“Hey, hey, come on kiddo. It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Your old man isn’t so feeble as you might think.” 

“I just don’t know…” 

“Don’t know what?” 

“I don’t know what to do… I keep trying and nothing helps. Nothing saves you. Nothing saves Edelgard, or Catherine… Am I just doomed? Stuck trying to not end up all alone only to fail again and again?” 

“Doomed? Alone? Kiddo what’s going on with you?” 

“... Nothing, just forget it.” Byleth said, only to feel Jeralt grasp her shoulders, pulling her back and looking her in the eye.

“Byleth, if you are dealing with something, let me help. But you have to tell me first.” 

“What would you do if you knew your friend was about to enter a fight they could never win, and refused to try and make peace? How would you stop them?” Byleth saw Jeralt look at her, confused as he tried to figure out what in the world she could be talking about, before resigning to simply trying to answer. He chewed his cheek, thinking for a moment, before clearing his throat to speak. 

“I don’t think you could. If someone is that determined to fight, there’s something more behind it. It could be personal, or an obligation, or just them seeing no other choice, but… a situation like that you have to make a decision, whether to fight beside them, or stand aside and let them take the beating.” Byleth shook her head as her father spoke. 

“It can’t be that simple. There has to be a way, some way.” 

“Byleth, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?” Jeralt asked, and after a second, Byleth watched the world lurch back around her, rewinding until she saw Jeralt, back where he had been, leaned against the wall again as he offered his hand. “The toll is one dance with your old man.” 

“No thanks.” Byleth heard herself whisper “I… I don’t feel well. I’m just going to go back to my room… Goodbye, dad.” 

‘Good night, kiddo.” Jeralt said, obviously concerned. “If you need anything, let me know. Hey, how about next week we go set some time aside to train? I’ve been missing you with all your work with your students lately...Byleth?” Byleth watched herself walk away, ignoring Jeralt and leaving her final dance with her father undanced. There was a bitter taste in her mouth. 

The carriage ride the rest of the way to Enbarr was quiet, to the point you might have heard a pin drop. Catherine sat on the driver’s bench beside Edelgard, polishing her half-lance with a scrap of cloth she’d cut from one of the dead soldier’s uniforms. The first time the silence was broken was during the late afternoon, somewhere around 6 oclock, when they were approaching the city walls. 

“We’ll be entering the city proper soon enough. Are you ready?” Edelgard asked, looking to Catherine as she was slinging the half spear over her shoulder. 

“Are you?” The knight asked. 

“As I’ll ever be.” Edelgard snapped the reins and the carriage lurched forward, going even faster as they sauntered down into the valley at the center of which held the city of Enbarr. 

They were greeted by the city guard at the gate, before being guided toward the royal palace. Once they arrived, Catherine was more than happy to get off of that damn bench, and as Edelgard began speaking to a taller woman, ensuring arrangements were made for their stay, Catherine moved over to the luggage compartment. She had just began unloading the bags when she heard a familiar voice crawl its way into her ears. 

“Well hello, dearest niece.” Lord Arundel said, his voice so coyly sacarin it made Catherine’s teeth ache. 

“Uncle.” Edelgard’s voice was firm, but Catherine could hear the slightest hint of surprise. “I am so glad to see you. It is good to know my father has not sat alone while in this trying time.” 

“Oh, believe me dear niece, he has been plenty accompanied. I have ensured I keep a very, very close eye on him.” Edelgard could read the threat in his words from a mile away, and something sickening settled into her stomach. “I am so glad that you could be here for him. He has missed you oh so much.” 

“I see. Well I am glad to be here, even if the circumstances are so... melancholic.” 

“Oh, it is truly sad to see the old die as the new is given it’s rise.” Arundel leaned close, his smile giving Edelgard the slightest view of his sharp teeth. “But see, there are some things that never really die. They cling stubbornly to life, and outlive the old, and the new, both.” 

“Emperor Edelgard, the bag you requested. Apologies for interrupting, Lord Arundel.” Catherine said, butting into the conversation and handing over the large messenger bag of paperwork, bowing her head respectfully.

Edelgard took the bag, realizing it felt heavier than it had when she’d packed it that morning. As she turned back to Arundel, she slung the bag over her shoulder, resting her hand on it at her hip and feeling the faint curve of a dagger handle. 

“Hmmmm, and who might this be?” Thales asked, looking at Catherine with a familiar glint. “My oh my, sir Charon? I see you’ve gotten a promotion from ‘hostage’ in the short while since I saw you last. I didn’t even know that there was a Royal Guard again.” Thale’s voice grew thick with insinuation and aggravation as his eyes turned to Edelgard. 

“The Charon family refused to ceed their territory in exchange for Lady Catherine’s release, and as such I thought it pertinent to permit her freedom in exchange for my usage of her as a propaganda tool. Her status as a former knight of Seiros, and a commander in the ranks, is opportune for use in proving the Archbishop an ineffectual leader, and thus I thought giving her as empty of a title as Guard of the Emperor until it is felt the campaign has run its full course was the best path of action. I have brought her today to keep up appearances.” 

“Hmmmmm, A cleaver plan, my niece.” Arundel said, his own coy version of ‘a good lie’. “But, if your plan was so well thought, why is this the first I am hearing of it?” 

“I had intended to discuss it on your next visit to the Monastery, as there have been some concerns of our reports being intercepted on their path to you. A campaign of this nature, I felt you would agree, was best discussed in person.” Edelgard replied, daring him to call her on the bluff. 

Thale’s heavy distrust was something she was used to navigating, but there was one benefit to it. He was so constantly paranoid about his ‘underlings’ that he seemed incapable of differentiating his own paranoia from real deception. When everything becomes lies and deception, truth and lies become one, and thus Arundel seemed hesitant to act beyond his petty mind games to actually prevent it. Solon was the master of action and physical torture, Thales was simply a manipulator, but Edelgard had spent over a decade now surviving his games. She’d grown to know them well, and if she could play just a while longer then both she and Fodlan could be free. 

“Ah, I see. Well, I am glad to see my cunning has begun to rub off on you, dear niece.” Arundel said, looking less proud and more intrigued by the challenge. 

“Of course, uncle. How could I not endeavor to learn from my most cherished family?” Edelgard replied. She’d be damned if it was him who drove her into her grave, not the other way around. 

“Well, I suppose I ought to leave you to your visit, then. The head maid of the home tells me you intend to stay the rest of the week.” Arundel noted, and Edelgard could read the message underneath the words like ink. ‘Slip an inch, and you will hang for it.’. 

“Oh, it seems there must have been a miscommunication. As much as I would adore a week to spend with you, my uncle, my duties at the warfront are of vital importance, and I’m afraid I only packed enough for a single day.” Edelgard said, patting her bag. “We will be leaving before nightfall so as to reach an inn at an appropriate hour.” Edelgard corrected. Edelgard loathed the idea of leaving her father to Thales, but she wouldn’t dare leave him a week of her life to toy with. She’d be the one to hang him or die trying. 

“Oh, well what a shame. I do hope you have a safe trip home.” Arundel remarked, and again the message was clear as day: ‘Run all you want, nowhere is safe from me.’ The slimy leach bid them adieu and turned on his heel, sauntering down the hall as if he had not a care in the world.

“Ma’am, I apologize if there was a miscommunication, but your letter said rather plainly that you would be staying for the rest of the week.” The head maid remarked, looking at the clipboard in her hands. 

“No apologies necessary, Miss Alicia. Just please send an agent to the nearest inn outside of Enbarr and inform them to reserve a room for the night.” Edelgard instructed. 

“Understood, ma’am. Shall I reserve it under your name?” 

“No. That would make it far too easy to target. Hmmm…” Edelgard wondered what alias they could use for the reservation, but her mind drew a blank on one that could possibly elude Arundel. 

“Reserve it under the name Carlisle Charon.” Catherine said, the slightest hint of distaste in her voice. The head maid looked to Edelgard, who looked to Catherine. She nodded, and in turn Edelgard nodded to the maid. 

“Do as Lady Catherine said. Thank you, Miss Alicia.” 

“Of course, my lady.” Alciia said, bowing her head as Edelgard led Catherine into the building. 

“Need I ask who Carlisle is?” Edelgard prodded, kicking herself as she saw a scowl cross Catherine’s lips at the repetition of the name. 

“A dead man.” Catherine said, making it clear that’s all she felt like saying at the moment. “I assume you did not intend for the scumbag to be here?” 

“No. Arundel, as far as Hubert’s spies were aware, was meant to be on route to Almyrha to try and negotiate an attack on the Alliance. He wasn’t meant to return until long after we were gone. Which means someone in Hubert’s web has been compromised.” Edelgard muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “Wonderful. As if this day could not grow worse, I must keep my eyes open and in the back of my head, for fear of Arundel.” 

“Ain’t that why you got me, Princess?” Catherine asked, patting the sword on her hip. “Let yourself focus on your family. I’ll make sure the slimier parts of it keep at bay.” 

“Thank you, Catherine.” Edelgard said, heaving a sigh as they marched through the halls of house, approaching her father’s bedchamber. “Just ensure you don’t go and get yourself hurt again. I am already drained from healing you earlier, and I do not think I have a second time in me.” 

“Hey, I think I did pretty damn well.” 

“You’d have done better were you not so determined to not use the relic on your back.” Edelgard pointed out. 

“That isn’t going to happen, Princess. This thing is here to appease your bat of a brother, and nothing more.” Edelgard looked at Catherine, but reasoned that topic was as done as the question of who ‘Carlisle’ was, so she left it be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE SOME ANGST IN STORE FOR YOU MOTHERFUCKERS NEXT WEEK AHAHAHAHAHA>


	32. Chapter 30: Bittersweet Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walked in, and Catherine tossed her bag onto the floor as she collapsed onto the bed, the only bed. 
> 
> “Um… I think there might have been a mistake when they made the reservation…” Edelgard said, looking around the room. Catherine groggily sat up, looking around, and the moment it clicked her eyes went wide. In her rush to move off of the bed, she found herself sliding off the edge, hitting her head on the bedframe. 
> 
> “Son of a bitch.” Catherine muttered, her voice still in the lower tone. She stood quickly, clearing her throat and re-finding her speaking voice. “Uh, sorry, Princess. I shoulda looked before laying down. Hope I didn’t get the bed to, uh, you know messy or smelly or whatever.” Catherine said, moving to the chest in the corner of the room, opening it to find, as she had expected, a few spare blankets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Who is ready for part two of the chapter I sincerely considered titling “Daddy   
> Issues”????!!! Well if you’re here reading this I can only assume YOU!!!! 
> 
> I apologize on this update going up late, I miiiiight have hyperfixated on Fallout: New Vegas all week and had to proofread all of this TODAY. So that might’ve been a thing, hahaha. 
> 
> I’m very excited to see how y’all like this week! I promise, we’re not gonna have to wait NEARLY as many chapters before Catherine and Edelgard fuck as we had to for Byleth and Edelgard, but I’m definitely gonna make yall earn the “comfort” part of this hurt comfort fic. ENJOY!!!!
> 
> Also an update: Somewhere to Belong: A trans wlw/mlm relationship zine (@3hTransZine on Twitter! ) Has officially opened mod apllications! If you're interested, come check it out! https://t.co/60m2iSrTvs?amp=1
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage and check out Somewhere to Belong, a FETH Trans wlw/mlm zine @3HTransZine

“Hello, Father.” Edelgard whispered as she walked to the chair at Ionius’s bedside, seeing him shift ever-so-slightly, struggling to turn his head to face her. His eyes were underlined with such thick dark bags that it looked as if they might meet the edges of his lips, which were pulled up in an exhausted smile. 

“Hello, El.” Ionius muttered, shifting in her sheets, trying to sit. “Help your father up, I grow sore lying in this bed all day.” 

“Father, you should rest.” Edelgard said.

“I’ll rest plenty soon enough, for now let me sit and see my daughter from a proper angle, not staring up at you like I am already in my grave.” Ionius limply held up his hand, which Edelgard took and used to help raise her father, helping him back so he resting was against the headboard. “That is better. Come, sit.” Ionius patted the edge of the bed beside him, and Edelgard took the sea, her father smiling as he seemed to take her in. 

“How have you been feeling, father?” 

“Like death, my dear child.” Ionius said, a rasping chuckle escaping his lips before turning into a hacking cough. Edelgard put a hand to his shoulder, helping him stay upright until the fit had passed. 

“Father…” 

“What else would you like me to say, my dear? It is the truth of the matter.” Ionius said, leaning back and resting a hand atop hers. “I gain nothing by pretending I’m not on the path to meeting the rest of our family. So I shall harbor no illusions, and make no idle fantasies.” Ionius reached up, resting his hand on her cheek and rubbing his thumb underneath her eye, she hadn’t even realized she was crying. “I’m sorry, my dear.” 

“It is not your fault, father.” 

“But it is. All of it…” Ionius sighed. “I had so looked forward to spending this week with you, even knowing what would happen at some point during it.” Edelgard felt her heart ache with guilt as she looked away. 

“Father, I need to talk to you. I’m afraid I can’t-” 

“I know, my dear little El.” Ionius said, resolute and certain. “I knew from the moment I saw that snake crawl in through my door. I hold nothing against you, and I ask that you not hold it against yourself. I’m glad you will not spend more than absolutely necessary with that thing parading around as a man. If I can not keep my little girl safe, then I will be damned if you are in danger because of me.” 

“Father, I’m not afraid of Thales.” 

“You should be.” Ionius said plainly, as if scolding her. “Fear and cowardice are not the same thing, my child. I know better than most anyone, for I have shown more cowardice than any man should be allowed in one lifetime, and I do not doubt that the goddess will punish me harshly for it, as is deserved. But please, my dear, be careful. That monster is little more than hate and wrath wrapped in paper thin flesh, and I want my baby girl to be able to live a long, happy life, even if I am not there to see you live it.” A bloody, hacking cough escaped Ionius’s lips, taking him quite some time to fully recover from. “I want the Hresvelg family portrait to fill again, not to dwindle further to emptiness… Please, El, promise me you will not gamble with your life by challenging that thing before you’re ready. I have so many regrets in my life, but the greatest of them is that I am leaving you alone in this fight.” 

“I promise, father… and you need not worry, I… I am not alone.” Edelgard said quietly. Ionius tugged on her shirt weakly, and Edelgard realized he was trying to pull her closer. She leaned in, and felt the thin, boney arms of her father wrap around her in a hug. 

“My little El, I love you… I know I never said it as much as I should have, to any of you. Another regret to add to the list I suppose. But please know that I mean it. Our family has become so small, but you were always my shining glint of hope… my little ball of sunshine on those darkest of days.” Ionius pulled back, resting his hands on either side of Edelgard’s face. “I want you to be happy, my dear girl. Had I not been so weak, you would have none of these worries. You could have grown up a child surrounded by love and family and all the enraging annoyances of both. I could have sent you to school safe in the knowledge that that was all that was on your mind, school, and perhaps your professor.” Ionius chuckled at the blush that drew to his daughter’s face. “She seems like a lovely woman. A bit dense, but honest. Was she the one I heard you speaking to in the hall? She sounded different, a deeper voice.” 

“No, father, that is my… my bodyguard, Catherine.” 

“Ah, I’m sure Arundel is none too happy for that title to be revived.” Ionius muttered.  
“Not at all.” 

“Well if you’re going to challenge him, a bodyguard is good to have, as long as you know you can trust her.” 

“I can.” 

“Are you certain?” 

“Yes.” Edelgard said without a second’s hesitation, making Ionius chuckle, only for it to once again turn into a violent cough. 

“Good. you’ll need all the help you have available.” Ionius muttered. “I just pray that you haven’t gotten yourself another lumbering meathead with the intellect of a bull.” 

“Father, she’s my bodyguard, not my partner.” Ionius gave her a strange look, as if he was privy to a joke she was unaware of. 

“I am aware, my dear girl, I said nothing intending otherwise.” Ionius sighed, letting his hands down and rubbing his eyes. “I fear I might have overdone it. I am feeling drained, and fear I might faint on you at any moment.” 

“You should rest, father.” 

“And you should get as far away from this place as you can, El.” Ionius said grimly, before softening into a smile.

“Of course, father.”

“Goodbye, my dear. Please, let it be as long a while as possible before I see you next.” 

“I will, Father.” 

“Also… tell Hubert I’ve appreciated his letters over the past few months. His words have been very… enlightening, and I’m glad to see you have someone so studious working alongside you.”

“I’ll ensure he knows.” Edelgard said, noticing that same strange glint in her father’s eye as she stood, then helping him lay back in the bed.

“I love you, El.” 

“I love you too.” 

It was maybe another thirty seconds before Ionius had fallen unconscious, and Edelgard sat in the chair at his bedside, head in her hands as she prayed her gloves would be enough to stop her sobs from waking him. 

“Thales, you’ve returned early.” Solon mused, looking at the splayed open body of another dead experiment, prodding its liver with his pencil before writing another note. 

“That damned mongrel has grown a bit too big for her skin.” Thales growled, his hands interlocked behind his back as he paced around the room. 

“Then turn it over to me and allow me to skewer it and learn what I can, as I told you ages ago we should have.” Solon recoiled as Thales shot him a murderous glare. 

“Are you claiming to know better than me, Solon?” 

“No, lord Thales, not at all.” Solon groveled, bowing his head. 

“Good. Because if you were, while being so vilely wrong, I’d have need to properly punish you.” Thales growled again. “I told you before, we need the Flame Emperor. The damned Nabatean can only fall to one of the relics, and since you’ve been unable to locate that damned woman who managed to bend the Sword of the Creator to her own devices, the only other relic wielders under our control are her and those under her command. If she were to die I have not a doubt in my mind her groveling mongrels would hunt us for all they’re worth. They would not succeed, but we’d need to kill them, and then we’d have relics with no one to wield them.” Thales let out a heavy sigh. “Any attempt we make to kill her, even our more subtle methods, would be taken as an attack. If we wish to be free of those daft beasts, we must let her run her course and then slaughter her and the fools who follow her when it is over.” 

“Or, make its death seem like natural causes.” Solon offered, an evil glint in his large, bulbous eye. 

“Hmmmm, how do you mean?” 

“Well, the Flame Emperor is much like that groveling child from the Ordelia household, both are experiencing The Decay, but… I might have been able to expand on it somewhat when I was transferring our method from one rat to the other. The Flame Emperor’s decay is, to an extent, under my control.” Thales grew a twisted grin, his lips curling just a bit too far, his teeth a bit too sharp, and just a few too many. 

“I see…” 

“We accelerate its Decay, moving from 15 years to 5, and no matter how long the conflict goes, it dies and leaves you at the helm. If the war is won tomorrow, then it will fall ill and die before it has enough time to pose any threat to us, if the war rages for years more, then it dies, and ‘Lord Arundel’ becomes the grieving uncle, leading his family’s empire, which of course, he never wanted, to avenge his fallen ‘niece’. Its sniveling servants will follow without question, and then we slaughter the weaker ones and take the strongest for my experiments. That thing that has followed Flame Emperor like a lost puppy since it was a child seems like it would be fun to cut open and see how long it takes to quit screaming, and that one Flame Emperor brought along today seems like quite the experiment already, I would revel in carving it open to see what kind of changes I could induce in someone already having been changed so drastically.” 

“Well, if your plan works, I will ensure you have all of the test subjects your twisted heart desires, Solon. Ensure it is done.” 

“Yes, my Lord. But it will take time, and we will need to be able to reach it when we want the change to occur.” 

“Oh, I can ensure that we have access to the Flame Emperor. It can run all it likes, but it will never, ever escape me. It never left that squalid dungeon, the walls just became harder to see.” 

“Truely, my lord.” 

“A room for Carlisle Charon.” Catherine muttered to the man sat behind the counter of the small, grungy inn, letting her voice slip down below her usual tone for the first time in years. “Should have been reserved earlier this evening.” 

“Yeah, I got the room. Paid for already, just make sure to be out by noon tomorrow.” The greasy haired man said, tossing Catherine a set of keys. “Have a nice evening, Sir.” 

“You too.” Catherine said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking to where Edelgard was, her own bag in her hands as they moved down a secluded hall, the very end of which sat their room. 

They walked in, and Catherine tossed her bag onto the floor as she collapsed onto the bed, the only bed. 

“Um… I think there might have been a mistake when they made the reservation…” Edelgard said, looking around the room. Catherine groggily sat up, looking around, and the moment it clicked her eyes went wide. In her rush to move off of the bed, she found herself sliding off the edge, hitting her head on the bedframe. 

“Son of a bitch.” Catherine muttered, her voice still in the lower tone. She stood quickly, clearing her throat and re-finding her speaking voice. “Uh, sorry, Princess. I shoulda looked before laying down. Hope I didn’t get the bed to, uh, you know messy or smelly or whatever.” Catherine said, moving to the chest in the corner of the room, opening it to find, as she had expected, a few spare blankets. 

“No, no it’s fine.” Edelgard said quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I just didn’t know what we were going to do for sleeping arrangements.” Catherine swore she heard a bit of… what was that, hope, in Edelgard’s voice? She shook her head, it was likely nothing, her hearing things after a long day. Hell, the sun had set long ago, and it was utterly pitch black outside. 

“I’ll be fine, I’ve slept on worse than the floor before.” Catherine said, grabbing a few blankets and moving, spreading one out in front of the door into the room. Edelgard looked at her, curious, as she spread out another two. 

“Why are you doing that?” 

“It’s in case anyone tries to bust in.” Catherine said as she began undoing the straps of her chest plate. “I sleep sat up against the door, and if anyone tries to come in, I’ll wake up before they are inside. If someone tries to come in through the window, we’ll hear them break the glass.”

“Oh, that’s clever. But it sounds rather uncomfortable.” 

“Like I said, I've slept rougher.” Catherine said, reaching up and undoing the tie to the strap that held Thunderbrand in place, removing the weapon making a rather rediculous effort to not touch the blade as she began moving to the opposite side of the room, leaning it against the wall. 

“Catherine…” 

“Yeah, Princess?” Catherine asked, wiping the dirt and grime of the day off of her hands. 

“Today you nearly lost a limb because you thought to grab a dagger from behind your opponent rather than just using your relic… Why?” 

Catherine sighed, tossing the armor plate onto the floor, undoing all the armor until she was left in an undershirt and her pants. She’d sleep in that. She wasn’t going to go and start undressing in front of Edelgard. The poor girl had been through hell that day, and the last thing she needed was some old lady stripping and making her uncomfortable. 

“Because the last time I picked up that blade, I killed two of the most important people in my life, and was sent after two more with orders to kill…and I’m afraid.” Catherine admitted, setting her half-spear on the ground beside her and looking at the shadowy corner nearest her makeshift bed if only to avoid looking Edelgard in the eye. “Afraid that if I pick it up again, I’ll wake up and it’ll be covered in your blood… or that I won’t wake up at all, just spend the rest of my life in that hell, without even knowing.” Catherine wiped at her cheek, and a heavy quiet fell over the room. She took a moment, dropping with a thud onto the ‘bed’ by the door and leaning against the heavy oak. As she settled in, she sighed and spoke again. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“Why do you flinch when you use your axe?” Edelgard’s face grew, somehow, even more somber. 

“Because that is not a weapon, it is a trophy of death.” 

“Poetic, Princess, but what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Catherine asked. 

“Do you remember Remire?” Catherine nodded. 

“Hard to forget that place.” 

“That… That is what it took to forge that axe. I only found out after the fact what Thales and Solon had been doing, but by then it was too late. Relics take power to forge, and not some insignificant power, but vast, vast quantities of it. As such… it requires suffering. Sacrifice.” 

“The plague…” 

“They told me it was an experiment, and little more. But the plague was just the catalyst, spreading the spell to the entire village before Solon triggered it. They held the town under siege, made brother kill brother, siblings bind and burn their entire families...They ensured everyone in that village died as painfully, emotionally and physically, as possible, because they used that misery to make that weapon what it is. It is a blindingly bright reminder of exactly what awful things I’ve been part of, of what sins I have committed in the name of my cause.” Edelgard confessed, wiping away a tear elegantly with a single gloved finger. Even at her worst, she was poised. “Catherine… Who is Carlisle?”

Catherine sighed, leaning back and smacking her head against the door once, twice, and three times. She knew this was going to come up.

“Depends on who you ask.” Catherine said quietly, staring at the ceiling. 

“I’ll have to steal a phrase from you book: ‘what the fuck is that supposed to mean?’” Catherine couldn’t help but laugh at that. Maybe her Princess wasn’t as poised as she thought. 

“... Me.” 

“What?” 

“Carlisle was me.” Catherine admitted, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees. “Back when my family didn’t call me a disgrace to the Charon name. Before dad got pissed off his strapping young son turned out to be a girl, and mom found out her little girl got caught fucking the neighbor’s daughter.” Edelgard found it difficult to tell if that last sentence made Catherine want to laugh or cry. It seemed as if she was starting to do a strange mix of both. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Well, it was probably going to come up eventually.” Catherine said, scratching at the back of her head. 

“So that… what you said during the dance about your family…” 

“Yup.” Catherine muttered, chuckling to herself as she seemed to keep talking without thinking. “ The last time I was in the Charon estate, my father was standing in front of me screaming about how I had no right to take Thunderbrand, the family Relic, when by all right’s I shouldn’t even call myself a Charon. But the funny thing is I’m the only one in my generation who has a crest strong enough to actually use Thunderbrand. So I looked him dead in the eye and I told him if he wanted that damn sword so bad, he could try and fucking take it from me. He didn’t move until I was shoving past him to get into the carriage to the Monastery… I met Joe later that day. He found me, weeping in the back of a bar in that little village outside of Garreg Mach… I don’t know, I guess he recognized me as one of his own, another person who ‘switched teams’. He walks up to me and asks to have a seat, so I tell him i’m not into guys, he laughs and tells me ‘that’s good, cus I’m not into girls’ and we end up getting shitfaced together. I didn’t even know he was a knight until that next day when we both showed up to training hungover.” Catherine laughed, if only to cover how much she wanted to cry. 

“He really sounds like a great man.” Edelgard said quietly. 

“He was. Honorable until the bitter end.” Edelgard saw Catherine glance at that blade in the corner with an unrepentant contempt she saw rarely from the aloof blonde. Soon enough, Catherine sighed, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair. “I uh… I think we should try and get some sleep.” 

“You might be right.” Edelgard said quietly, hands in her lap as she leaned over, blowing out the lamp on the bedside table. Catherine laid her head back against the door as she crossed her arms, eyes closed as she tried to sleep. 

Edelgard heard the sickening crunch of bone beneath the head of her axe, pulling it up and revealing the mangled form of Flayn, her head nearly unrecognizable and her hair so soaked in her own blood that it’s vibrant green color was now a sickly brown. She was panting, trying to catch her breath, only to turn and see Hubert, her brother in all but blood, fall to the ground with a ragged hole smashed into his chest, dead likely before he even landed.

Caspar marched towards her, and she moved to meet him. Wordlessly, she charged him with her weapon, easily feinting to his left before turning and going at his exposed right side. Aymar ripped through his heavy steel armor like it was parchment, the sharp edges of the jagged ‘teeth’ of the blade scraping against and tearing through bone and muscle as she sent Caspar to the floor.

He crawled across the floor, gasping in pain and for berath, toward the long-dead corpse of Linhardt. The singed rip in the back of the long green robe he wore was likely from the spell Hubert had cast that had killed him, earning him his own death at the hand of Caspar, which earned Caspar his own grave at Edelgard’s hand. Caspar reached out, his hand inches from Linhardt, but a second later he had collapsed, his hand so agonizingly close and yet never to touch his partner ever again. 

“Is this what you wanted?” El heard Byleth, turning to look to her. She did not recognize the odd clothing that Byleth wore, nor did she recognize the length of her hair, but she recognized her Professor. 

“No, my love. This was never what I wanted.” 

“And yet you did it, all of it.” Byleth spat. “All of this, over and over and over again!” 

“What in the world are you talking about?! I tried to make you see reason! I tried to tell you why I had to do this! You never listened!” Edelgard screamed, axe in her hand. “I begged you to stand by my said, and you turned your blade on me!” 

“You have so stubbornly insisted on this foolish, self destructive path! Time and time again, I have tried to make peace, and yet you continue, each and every time, to remain on this bloodsoaked road till it leads to your grave!” 

“It will not be my grave that is dug today.” Edelgard declared. 

“It always is.”

Edelgard felt herself launch forward, seeming to try and close the gap, likely to try to negate the sword of the creator’s considerable reach. She blocked the sword as Byleth swung at her, hearing the bone scrape against bone as she pushed back, smashing the end of the handle into her beloved’s skull, sending her reeling back. Edelgard went to follow with another attack, only to have Byleth kick her foot out from under her, sending her to the ground. 

Byleth swung down to end her, but Edelgard rolled to the side, seeing the blade of her Professor’s sword extend out, carving open a ten foot long groove in the floor where seconds ago she had been. 

Edelgard stood and moved to attack again, cleaving open Byleth’s side with her axe, before doing the same with her thigh. Byleth lashed out and gouged out a large chunk of flesh from Edelgard’s shoulder, but while Edelgard was stumbling back, regaining her footing and her breath, Byleth fell to the ground, leaning against her sword for support. 

“It seems as though your path ends here, my teacher… Please know I feel no joy in claiming this victory, but I must strike you down here, and now.” Her heavy footsteps stopped, ending right in front of Byleth, who turned her gaze up to stare at her. From the paleness of Byleth’s face, to the wounds that covered her, it was clear she was too exhausted to fight against what was to come. “Right now, across the whole nation people are killing each other, Byleth. It has to end. If it doesn’t end here, then it will go on forever. Fódlan's future lies across your grave, and if that is the path I must walk then so be it.” Edelgard watched herself lean down, hooking a finger underneath her partner’s chin to lift her head up so she was staring into her eyes. “I had wanted so badly to walk with you, my love,” She paused, and Edelgard could feel it as the tears began building in the corner of her eyes. She roughly pushed Byleth away, and as she lay there, looking up at her, Byleth began to whisper.

“El….Please….” But Edelgard watched as Aymar tore into the side of her beloved’s throat all the same. 

Blood spilled from the open wound, and Edelgad watched as Byleth held her hands to her throat, coughing and choking on her own blood as the light began to fade from her eyes. Edelgard watched as her coughs grew fewer, and then weaker, and then silent. Her Professor went still, growing paler and paler before her, and Edelgard felt the tears spill out as Byleth lay dead at her feet. She collapsed to her knees, Aymar discarded at her side as she held her head in her hands, sobbing. Then there was a blinding flash, and everything was gone. 

Catherine awoke when she heard Edelgard cry, her eyes shooting open as she reached for her half spear, ready to fight. She surveyed the room for the threat, only to see that there was none. The window was still intact, the door closed behind her, and Edelgard looked to be still in her bed, untouched. There was a second of silence, and then Catherine heard it again, a muffled sob coming from the bed. Catherine set the lance down, pushing herself up and moving toward the bed. 

“Princess? Are you ok?” Catherine asked, and Edelgard jumps up with such a fright that Catherine is startled back. Edelgard’s eyes are full of terror, wild and unfocused, her hands curled into crude claws, ready to attack the unfamiliar surroundings. Catherine kneels down, her hands resting atop Edelgard’s, giving foundation, an anchor for Edelgard to pull herself back. “Edelgard, Edelgard it’s me. You’re ok, you’re safe, wherever you were you’re not there anymore.” 

Somewhere in her rambled, still-half-asleep reassurances, Catherine gets through. Edelgard’s eyes slowly focus, and there’s a second of her realizing where she is. Catherine goes to pull her hands away, but Edelgard has latched onto them, holding them tight. Catherine doesn’t pull away again, she squeezes gently. 

After a long while, Catherine’s legs grow so numb and simultaneously achy from her kneeling that she takes a moment to adjust, sitting on the edge of the bed, making sure to give Edelgard plenty of space. That space survives roughly three quarters of a second before Catherine is tackled by a short, blindingly fast flash of red fabric, and she feels the muffled vibration of Edelgard’s sobs through her shirt. Catherine sits there for a moment, unsure of what to do as she feels Edelgard’s hands bunch up in the fabric of her clothes, clinging tight to her with clearly no intention of letting go any time soon. 

Catherine wrapped her arms around Edelgard, hesitantly at first, looking down and trying to make sure she wouldn’t make the problem worse, but when she sees no signs of increased distress, increased being the optimal word given the rest of the situation at hand, she squeezes her tight, feeling Edelgard pull her closer still by the fabric of her shirt, so she hugs her tighter. 

“It’s ok, Princess. I’m right here.” Catherine tries to reassure her, knowing that she’s talking completely out of her ass. The entire continent was engaged in war, their mutual partner was still missing, both of them were fucking trainwrecks of trauma barely held together with sheer stubborn refusal to quit, and everythign seemed to move more and more toward the ‘shitshow’ category each passing moment. But that moment didn’t need her to be right, it needed her to be there, Edelgard needed her to be there, and so she was there, lying her ass off to try and help her feel just a little bit better. “You’re safe. You’re ok.” Catherine whispers, somewhere into the mound of messy white hair in the general vicinity of Edelgard’s ear. 

Edelgard wants to laugh. She is so far beyond ok, to the point that even as she feels some small sliver of her screaming at her to quit sobbing into her bodyguards undershirt, that she should feel guilty for wanting to be close to the woman, for finding comfort in her arms, that sliver is drowned in the monstrous typhoon that is the rest of her thoughts. For a while, she can be selfish. 

Her world is in shambles. It has been for over a decade, and now she is losing everything that helped her hold together, while the few remaining things she had allowed herself, her brother and her partner, were nowhere to be found. Her father was dead, she was dying, likely at the hand of the same person, and all she could hope was that she could kill the bastards who had damned her before they killed her. Her family, once sprawling and massive, was now dead and gone, leaving her alone in a world so empty and cold to her that she barely knew why she wanted to remain in it, let alone fight for it. 

But she knew why, because it would mean that no one else would suffer as she had been forced to. If spending the last days of her life cold, alone, and fighting with all she had would mean there would never be another sole survivor, then she’d do it a thousand times over. 

But there, she found some semblance of warmth, pressed against Catherine, surrounded by her. How could she not cling to that? There was the voice shaming her, telling her she was vile for wanting to be close to Catherine when she knew how much she would be dragging them into, how selfish it was to want to try and build something when she knew she would only die and leave them behind when she was gone. But that voice was again swallowed by the typhoon. 

It was quite some time before Edelgard felt her breathing slow, and her sobs become quiet whimpers into the well-soaked fabric of Catherine’s shirt. Catherine made no move to leave, and neither did Edelgard. Each of them waited for the other to do so, guilt creeping it way into their minds at how bitter of a moment could feel as nice as it did intertwined together. 

It was some time after that when Catherine’s quiet reassurances turned into a question. 

“How can I help?” Catherine asked. 

“Just please, don’t go.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, Princess.” Catherine promised, squeezing her tighter. Slowly, she moved her hand up, stroking Edelgard’s hair, feeling the long silver strands flow around her fingers. 

Edelgard knew Catherine likely thought she just meant for that moment, maybe that night, but in truth Edelgard meant so much more. Catherine had, for some time now, been her one point of stability, stood by her side for over half of a year, and in truth Edelgard had found it difficult to look back at what life had been before her, much in the same way she felt looking back at her life before she’d met Byleth. 

She was a fool, allowing herself to grow so attached, but she didn’t care anymore. Catherine helped her feel safe in a life that felt as if it was anything but. She needed that, needed her. 

She would face the world alone if need be, she was not afraid of that. She had spent years preparing to do just that before Hubert, then Byleth and the Black Eagles, and now Catherine had entered her life. But the world felt so much warmer when she thought of facing it with Catherine and Byleth by her side. 

The hours dragged on, and some time in the midst of that chaos, Edelgard fell asleep there on Catherine’s chest, and it was not long after that that Catherine finally allowed herself to sleep as well. She lay her head back, adjusting slowly so her spine was bent at a slightly less painful angle, and let her arms relax. Not enough to let go, but enough so that Edelgard would know that she would if and when Edelgard needed her to leave the bed. She looked down at the face half obscured by the ruffled fabric of her shirt, and smiled as she found it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. 

She felt guilty. Guilty at how nice it felt to hold Edelgard, at finding some modicum of warmth out of what must be one of Edelgard’s weakest moments. Surely she must be damned to the worst pits of hell for something like that, but in honesty, she had faced that hell already, and she’d face it again if that’s what it took to keep Edelgard safe. 

Edelgard didn’t need her. Not as a guard, and not as what Catherine found herself wishing she could be to the Emperor, to her Princess. 

She had said it plainly earlier that morning, she needed something simple, something easy. Catherine could do that. She could set that thrum her heart did when she first saw Edelgard at training each morning aside, and let herself be the simple, easy part of the day that Edelgard needed. 

With only a decade left to her goals, what right did Catherine have to try and waste even a moment of Edelgard’s life on her own selfish hope? Edelgard was her friend, and she could never do that to a friend. She’d simply do her best to do what she always found easiest to do around the ones she cared for. She would be there, by their side, ever ready to do whatever she needed to make their lives just a little bit easier. It was what she was good at, and this time she could know, without a shred of doubt, that it was her choice. She trusted Edelgard with her life, and would do everything she could to ensure that Edelgard could see her grand revolution come to fruition before hers ended. 

Eventually, she fell asleep. They spent the rest of the night lying there, intertwined together as the world faded away around them, and for just a moment they had some reprieve from their enemies both outside the walls and within themselves. For just a moment they had each other to help keep the cold away, and it was nice, no matter how bittersweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have been BUZZING about this chapter since I wrote it like, a month ago, so I’m super excited to see y’all’s reaction to this!!!! This chapter was very very much focused on our clusterfuck duo, but I’m excited for the next few chapters which I promise will hold more of our fave side characters. 
> 
> But yeah! They’re **cuddling**, scandelous. Anyone wanna place bets on how this is going to go down over the next while? I’m soooooo curious to see y’all’s thoughts. 
> 
> Also, yes I am absolutely using the ‘there was only one bed’ motif shamelessly, but I feel like i put an original spin on it that feels appropriate for our sapphic shitheads. 
> 
> Also an update: Somewhere to Belong: A trans wlw/mlm relationship zine (@3hTransZine on Twitter! ) Has officially opened mod apllications! If you're interested, come check it out! https://t.co/60m2iSrTvs?amp=1
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage and check out Somewhere to Belong, a FETH Trans wlw/mlm zine @3HTransZine


	33. Chapter 30: Bittersweet Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have nothing to apologize for, Manuela. May I hold you?” 
> 
> “Am I mistaken or are you not already doing that?” 
> 
> “Closer, I mean.” Manuela giggled as Ladislava clarified what she had meant, before nodding yes and feeling herself be wrapped in Ladislava’s arms, before there was a soft peck on her forehead. 
> 
> “Manuela! I brought the bucket you asked forOH MY GODDESS!” Flayn shrieked as she saw the two of them, dropping the bucket and covering her eyes, slowly backing away toward the door. “And you have the nerve to say me and Mercy are bad!” 
> 
> “Flayn calm yourself. We’re both still decent.” Manuela said, waiting for the girl to leave. “And please do make sure to close the door on your way-” 
> 
> “Hey, Mani, have you seen Iness-Oh my goddess, Mani really? The fucking cot?” Catherine said as she walked in behind Flayn, making Manuela roll her eyes. Of course, she shows up then too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! So, this and next week's chapters are going to be part 3 and 4 to the same chapter as last week, partially because they both take place in the same rough part of the time-skip, and partially because it was easier than trying to find a good thematic throughline for them on their own and coming up with another chapter title on the fly. I'm very excited to see y'all's reactions, cus this will give us a LOT of expansion on what everyone else in Garreg Mach is up to at this point and time, and I want to give some of our side pairing's a little more attention cus they deserve it.
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage

Shamir sat on a tree outside of the inn, leg swinging listlessly from the branch as she sliced a piece off of an apple she’d bought from a small market a few miles back. Ingrid sat beside her, peeling an orange and popping slices into her mouth, occasionally offering one to Shamir who would return the gesture with a segment sliced from her apple. They had slept in the tree overnight, and were still watching the carriage that sat parked in the inn’s stables, the ornate golden inlay on the wood somewhat tarnished by the obvious dried blood splatter. Sylvain stumbled through the branches below, finally seeing them and flailing his arms wildly to get their attention. 

“Hey, you two! What the hell are you doing?” Sylvain called, making the mercenary roll her eyes as she hurled her now bare apple core at the man. 

“I was relaxing, but now it seems I’m planning where to hide a body.” Shamir grumbled. 

“Ow!” 

“Shut up, Sylvain, you’re going to get us caught.” Ingrid hissed down.

“What, caught stalking Shamir’s ex?” 

“No, caught sneaking through enemy territory, dick-for-brains.” Shamir replied. 

“Then what are you doing sitting in a tree, you crazy bitch?” Shamir’s apple knife lodging into the ground behind him made Sylvain go stiff. “S… sorry, no ‘bitch’, got it.” 

“Good boy, so you can be trained.” Shamir muttered. 

“Not him, sadly. He’s like a goldfish, how quickly he forgets to not be a lecher.” Ingrid said plainly, eating another piece of orange. 

“So, if you’re not stalking her, what the fuck are you doing?” Sylvain asked, a bit quieter. 

“Sylvain, what did you notice yesterday during the fight?” Shamir asked, toying with another knife. 

“Uh, well we lost?” Sylvain noted, making Shamir sigh, turning to Ingrid. 

“You knew him growing up, didn’t you?” 

“Sadly.” Ingrid replied. 

“Has he always been this stupid?” 

“No, he was actually stupider when we were in school.” 

“That is terrifying to think about.” Shamir said, shaking her head and looking to the man below. “Who did we lose to?” 

“Uh, the Emperor and her bodyguard. Duh, i’m not that dumb.” 

“You’re missing the branch for its tree.” Ingrid hinted, watching the man get even more confused. 

“Tree for its…The hell do you mean?!” 

“Who was the guard, you jackass?” 

“You mean Catherine?!” 

“Yes, exactly.” Shamir said, dropping from the branch and landing a few feet away from him. “One of the most devoted of the commanders of the Knights of Seiros, a woman who was vocally in love with the Archbishop, is now the right hand of the leader of the Empire. Does that not strike you in the slightest bit suspicious?” Shamir asked as she rested her hands on her hips. 

“I mean, people switch sides. It’s not that complicated.” Sylvain shrugged, not seeing the issue. 

“Catherine does not strike me as the type to trade her loyalties so freely. She spent over a decade in service of the church and Lady Rhea, just to turn tail and run away from it? Then there is the matter of how we were all told she died during the battle to defend the monastery, yet here she is, palling around with the Emperor.” Ingrid thought aloud as she took the lance off of her back, throwing it into the trunk of the tree and dropping from her seat onto it, before dropping the rest of the distance to the ground and removing her weapon. She was not nearly as bold as Shamir as to try and brave the drop unaided. 

“Ok, so maybe that is a little weird, but what the hell are you two planning to do?” 

“Observe.” Shamir replied, crossing her arms. 

“Why in the name of the goddess almighty are you even here, Sylvain?” Ingrid asked. 

“What else was I supposed to do, walk back to Faergus alone through enemy territory? No thanks. At least sticking by you two I have someone to watch my ass.” 

“Yeah, sure, we watch your ass.” Shamir was unimpressed,considering she knew he’d likely spend more time ogling their backsides than watching their backs, but she decided there was little short of killing the boy that could rid them of him, and she wasn’t ready to sever all ties to her current paycheck just yet. At the very least, she needed a new meal ticket first.“Just keep your eyes and hands to yourself, and if you get caught I’m not saving your ass.” 

“Understood, same goes to you. Well, except for the hands to yourself.” Sylvain said, only for Ingrid to smack him in the back of the head. “OW!” 

Catherine woke to the sound of birds chirping outside, as the early morning sun shone into the room. It took her a long second to try and remember where the hell she was, and why her arm was so numb. She opened her eyes to check and make sure the limb was still attached at all, only for her vision to be obscured by a mass of silver hair, all of which trailed back to a head resting firmly on her upper arm.

That explained the numbness, she supposed. 

Catherine took stock of the rest of her limbs. Her legs seemed to be in relatively reasonable places, no issues there, but her other arm was draped over Edelgard, and as she started to remember the night before, it started to make a bit more sense. She was just thankful one of her tits hadn’t fallen out of her undershirt in the night. That wasn’t uncommon and it would have been awkward, and this didn’t need to be any more awkward then it already felt. 

A few more minutes passed, and while Catherine didn’t want to move and risk waking Edelgard, the numbness in her arm was starting to bother her more and more. The second she tried to shift even the slightest bit, however, Edelgard’s eyes slid open, before looking up at her. 

“Oh, Catherine. Good morning.” Edelgard mumbled groggily, not quite awake, as she shut her eyes again, as if intending to go back to sleep. A moment later her eyes opened again, confused as she realized how they were positioned, another second and she too remembered the night before, and Catherine moved the arm that had been draped over her as she sat up quickly, her cheeks growing pink. 

“Oh, um, good morning, Princess.” Catherine said as she went to sit on her side of the bed, only to misjudge the length of the mattress and roll off onto the floor, again. “Damnit.” Edelgard giggled at the heavy thud and Catherine’s grumbling as she stood up. 

“You really are not skilled at getting out of bed, are you?” 

“Aparrently not.” Catherine said, rolling her shoulder slowly as she walked over to the stack of discarded armor. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Better. Thank you for your help. I… I’m sorry about, well, what I did when you sat down.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Princess. I’ve been in that kind of spot more than a few times.” Catherine said, awkwardly scratching at the back of her head. She looked up, her eyes meeting Edelgard’s, flashing a quick smile before awkwardly turning back to her armor. “I… I was happy to be there for you. Was it… the stuff you were saying yesterday?” 

“Some of it. In truth, I’m not quite sure what I had dreamed of. It all feels like it’s clouded in smoke now.” 

“Yeah, dreams are like that sometimes.” Catherine reached down and picked up her breastplate, slinging it on over her shoulders and slowly strapping it into place. Edelgard reached down to the floor and grabbed her boots, putting them on and fastening them above her knees. As she finished, she looked up to see Catherine having placed most of the rest of her armor, along with her half-cape. The only thing missing with her weapons. However, as she went to grab her shortsword, Edelgard thought of something. 

“Catherine.”

“Yeah, Princess, what’s up?” she replied, pausing her walk as she looked at Edelgard. 

“Hold on for just a moment.” She said, standing and walking over toward her bag, undoing the ties and searching through the mass of supplies she had packed away, until finally she found it, a spare spool of red ribbon that she had packed in case of any issues with her gown. Edelgard took to spool over to her guard, gesturing to her hands. “Remove your gauntlets.” 

“Uh…” 

“Please, just trust me.” 

And like that, Catherine sighed and pulled the heavy steel off of her hands, tossing them both onto the bed and holding her hands out. Edelgard fiddled with the ribbon and a second later, the thick fabric was tied into a loose loop, which Edelgard hooked around Catherine’s thumb, taking the spool and slowly wrapping around her palm, between her fingers, and up the length of her forearm. Edelgard pulled the shortsword off of Catherine’s belt, cutting the ribbon and fastening the loose end in place before doing the same with her other hand.

Catherine wasn’t sure if she was more curious as to what Edelgard was doing, or more convinced she had just finally gone insane. But, there was something in the gentle way Edelgard cradled her wrist as she wove the ribbon around her hand that Catherine enjoyed. It was similar to what she had felt when she held Edelgard the night before, only this time undercut a bit less by guilt. The guilt was still there, but less so. Or maybe she was just better at quieting it. Edelgard has asked her to stay, she had wanted her there, so she would be there. Wherever “there” needed to be.

Finally, her second hand was wrapped, from fingertip to forearm in the wide, soft red fabric. Edelgard walked over to the spot on the wall where Thunderbrand leaned, slowly undoing the ties on the sheath, until the weapon was free. 

“Edelgard, what the hell-” “Sh.” Edelgard cut Catherine off, focusing on the blade as Catherine saw her tightly wrap the leather of the handle in red, fastening the tie at both ends. Edelgard held the weapon’s handle out to her protector. 

“Take it.” 

“Princess, I’m not going to-” 

“That was not a request, Catherine. It was an order.” Edelgard said, her tone growing serious. “I will not allow you to throw yourself carelessly into battles with a weapon like this that you refuse to use for sake of fear for my safety. Take the damned sword.” Catherine scowled as she looked at the handle, then down at her own hand, the palm of which was visibly still covered in thick red ribbon. “I trust you, Catherine. So trust yourself, and take it.” 

Catherine swallowed before taking adeep breath, closing her eyes and taking hold of the sword, slowly feeling all of its weight settle into her shoulder as Edelgard let go of it. 

Catherine gave it a few seconds, each one ticking like a thunderous explosion through her head, and when her time was up, she opened her eyes. Edelgard looked back at her, unharmed, and with the strangest look of pride. Catherine looked at her sword, and felt a pull in the pit of her stomach as the blade began to glow, dying as quickly as it began. She didn’t know what to say, what could she say? She was shit at talking. Action had always been her style more than words. That was what she was best at, so she set the blade aside, holding her hand out. 

“Can I see the ribbon?” Catherine asked. Edelgard looked at her, confused. “Come on, you trusted me with a massive spiked blade but not some fabric?” Edelgard rolled her eyes, handing her the spool with one hand, shoving her shoulder with the other. 

“You’re such an ass.” 

“Oh whatever.” Catherine said, starting to struggle with the ribbon. After what felt like an eternity of watcher her still not seem to manage to tie a knot in the fabric, Edelgard spoke up. 

“Ok, Catherine what are you trying to do?” 

“I’m trying to tie one of those loops like you did.” Catherine admitted with a chuckle. 

“Oh my goodness, you have got to be kidding me.” Edelgard said, reaching down and in a matter of seconds tying a new loop in the end of the spool. Catherine held her empty hand out again. Edelgard set her un-gloved hand in Catherine’s, as she did exactly as Edelgard had, slowly weaving the spool between her fingers, around her palm, and her wrist, and her forearm, and back again. Catherine took back her shortsword, and did the entire rest of the process as Edelgard had done it, until she stood there before Edelgard with Aymar in her hand. 

“Catherine, I do not refuse to use my weapon.” Edelgard said, looking at the monstrous jaws of the axe. 

“No, but you hesitate. And on the battlefield you know as well as I do that that sort of thing can and will get you killed. I can’t order you to do it, but it would mean a great deal to me if you did.” Edelgard sighed, reaching forward and taking Aymar. “Better?” Edelgard held the axe in hand, lifting it up and down a bit to test how it felt in her hand. 

“A bit. Yes… We should get moving. It is already late. ” 

“Sounds good to me, Princess.” Catherine said, moving her sheath into its place on her back, sliding Thunderbrand into it. 

“What in the hell is going on with their arms?” Shamir asked as she watched Catherine hurl two heavy bags into the back of the carriage before climbing into it, the same new guy sat in the driver’s seat as had been when they’d seen them leave Enbarr. 

“They’re covered in ribbon.” Sylvain said, taking a bite out of the sandwich he had bought, against Shamir's advice, from the kitchen at the Inn.

“I can see that. My question is why are they covered in ribbon.” 

“Well, no, your question was ‘What in the hell is going on with their arms’ which is why I said…” Sylvain began to explain, until he saw the unimpressed glare from Shamir. “Nevermind that, maybe they’re in a cult? Like some weird ribbon cult.” Shamir now looked at Sylvain with a rare modicum of concern. 

“Did you hit your head during the battle, or is this just how you are?” 

“No, I mean this is about on average for me. I once tried getting good grades to get up Mercedes’ skirt but…” It was Ingrid this time who glowered at the man. “I’ll be quiet.” Sylvain said, taking another bite from his sandwich as they all began to walk toward the direction of the Monastery.

“I am astounded you somehow managed to survive this long.” Shamir admitted with genuine wonder. 

“Yeah, I hear that a lot.” 

Lysithea was in the training arena, casting spells at a large dummy, when she heard the door click open. Heavy footsteps announced the presence of someone as they walked in behind her. Turning and looking over her shoulder, Lysithea saw Edelgard, in her horns, gown and all, standing with her hands politely clasped in front of her. 

“Lysithea. Might I borrow you for just a moment?” The emperor asked, her noble disposition not doing much to mask her nervousness. 

“What for?” Lysithea asked, crossing her arms and cocking her hip to the side, an unimpressed scowl etched into her face. 

“I… I have arranged a meeting.” Edelgard said, wringing her hands as she looked at Lysithea with hope in her eyes for the first time in some while. “Between myself, Manuela, Linhardt, and well, you.” Lysithea’s eyes went wide as moons as she looked at the Emperor, almost giddy, even if she would smite anyone who dared use that term to refer to her. 

“ You did?!” Edelgard nodded, making Lysithea’s lips pull into a grin. “What… why...I…” Lysithea sputtered, before finally giving up as she ran forward, tackling the shorter woman in a hug. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. Forgive me for my foolishness… for my fear.” 

“I will try.” Lysithea pulled out of the hug, a more subtle grin on her face. “But If I die before we get a cure because of your dilly dallying I will haunt you so damned hard!”

“Please don’t joke about that.” 

“Who said I was joking!?” 

They walked quickly to the main Administrative building, past the Audience Chamber and into Edelgard’s office. 

“Where is that stubborn mule of yours?” Lysithea asked as the waited for Manuela to arrive. 

“Catherine?” 

“No, the other blonde with a sword who has followed you around like a lost puppy for the past 3 quarters of a year.” Lysithea mocked. “Yes I mean Catherine!” 

“She was grabbed by Dorothea and Bernadetta. Something to do with Inessa and Sylvia if I’m not mistaken.” Edelgard said, before seeming to realize something. “And I would implore you to be a bit more respectful. Catherine has not ‘followed me like a lost puppy’. She is my bodyguard, she is simply doing her job.” 

“Yes. Quite diligently, at that.” Lysithea mumbled, her tone as she dragged out the ‘quite’ making a subtext clear. “I haven’t ever heard of a guard with such unyielding devotion as to never leave their charge’s side.” 

“She does leave my side at times, such as right now.” 

“Ah, of course, I forget the great lengths of time you two spend apart, a whole few hours when you both go to sleep in your own chambers, at least I assume you do.” Lysithea taunted, making Edelgard blush a bit. 

“What exactly are you trying to imply?” 

“Nothing.” Lysithea said, rolling her eyes. 

If the Emperor was missing the point that widely, then either she was as dense as her guard and her partner, or she was actively playing dumb. There was a knock on the door, and Manuela walked in with several large beakers and a small leather pouch, as Linhardt followed with a bundle of books. 

“Hello girls.” Manuela said, laying her bag and beakers down. They both said they greetings to her and Linhardt. “So, Edelgard has given us the long and short of what you all have been dealing with, and we think we have a decent idea of where to begin.” 

“You mean with treatment?” Lysithea asked, overjoyed. 

“No.’ The disappointment on her face made Manuela want to give the poor girl a hug. “Sadly, we need to start from square one, testing. We’ll need to look at the effects of the crests on your bodies, as well as take samples of your blood.” 

“Why blood?” Lysithea asked.

“To put it simply-” Linhardt began, clapping a book shut and yawning. “It gives us more information than a urine sample but is less painful to take than a muscle or bonemarrow sample. We will be taking some blood from you, and seeing how your cells are being effected now, then exposing the blood to various types of stress and observing further.” 

“That is the long and short of it, really. Plus, those tissues die quickly. I can preserve things with healing magic, but only for so long. Blood, I can gather a large sample size and you two can be on your merry way for several weeks. Other tissues would be weekly collections, painful ones at that. And from what Edelgard has told us, you two have been through enough.” 

“I am not some child to be babied and coddled.” Lysithea said, crossing her arms. 

“No, you’re a grown woman who has been through severe trauma and is currently in the process of dying, and I would rather not add the Bone Corkscrew to your weekly schedule and make it even worse.” Manuela said, figuring if Lysithea wanted it straight, she’d give it to her straight. The younger woman seemed to appreciate the brutal honesty. 

“We will also have you all fill a brief report on your health, any ailments, malodies, or symptoms you might be dealing with now, and I will need a copy of the key to Hubert’s office.” Linhardt said, flipping through a new book in his hands. “Edelgard has insisted on leaving him unaware of the situation, but his office is the only one equipped with Professor Hanneman’s crest monitoring equipment, and thus we will need access to it.” 

“I’ll ensure the copy is made. Thank you both for this.” Edelgard said as Manuela walked over to Lysithea, bidding her to roll up her sleeve as she began to prepare to draw her blood. 

“Of course, dear. But may I ask why you wish for him to be left out? Hubert is an observant and intelligent young man, I’m certain his insight could be beneficial.” Manuela mused as she set the needle adeptly in Lysithea’s arm.

“Hubert is also the closest I have to family, and he is a worrywort for anything related to me. Were he to catch wind of this, I would have to deal with his constant badgering about my health. I have a war to lead, I don’t have time to deal with his doting, nor do I wish to worry him on my behalf. If all goes well, he’ll never need to know of any of this.” 

“I suppose I can see your reasoning.” Manuela said, slightly under her breath as she sealed off the blood and labeled the container clearly, setting it aside before moving to Edelgard. The Emperor slid off her gauntlet and rolled up her sleeve, careful not to disturb the ribbon still snuggly hugging her forearm and hand like a glove. “Hmmm, very pretty.” Manuela noted. 

“Thank you.” Edelgard said, slightly embarrassed. Manuela could swear she saw a blush on the Emperor’s cheeks, but surely that was a mistake.

Randolph and Ladislava flew side by side on their wyverns as they began approaching the Monastery. 

“I’m quite amazed you got stuck with the armed escort duty today, Ladislava. I thought you were better than that.” Randolph said, sitting lackadaisically in his saddle. 

“I am ‘better’ than no task the Emperor asks of me, Randolph, even ensuring you make it to the Monastery safely.” Ladislava shouted over the beating of the wyvern’s wings. 

“Oh, I’m sure you aren’t, or at least don’t think yourself such, but I really do think your talents are wasted on trips like this, old friend.” 

“Were I not on missions such as this, I’d be just as wasted in my talents sitting about the Monastery grounds.” Ladislava snapped her reins a bit, ensuring her wyvern did not flit off of course. 

“Ah, true. You’ve been rather bored since you’re not nearly as busy protecting the Emperor’s travels.” Randolph cracked a wicked grin. “One would think you might enjoy the time to rest, maybe spend a little bit of time with that comely young lady you couldn’t stop talking about last time I saw you. How is she, by the by?” 

“If you are trying to refer to Lady Manuela, I’d insist you be a bit more respectful in your descriptors.” Ladislava looked at the man, who could only cackle. 

“Ah, Ladi, you never do change, do you? I swear, between the stick up your ass and the lance on your back I couldn’t tell you which is longer. But really, how is she? You haven’t said a word of her in months, and all I heard on the last trip I took out of Garreg Mach with you was ‘Oh Randolph she has eyes like emeralds’ this and ‘I swear her voice makes my mind go fuzzy’ that. By Adrestia, I was expecting to come back and hear that you’d proposed in the month I’d been gone, but you haven’t said a word about her.” Ladislava looked away, staring at the sky ahead of them and pretending she hadn’t heard a word of Randolph's tirade. The general looked at his childhood friend, and his eyes went wide. “NO! You did not go and leave that poor woman hanging after a single date! Tell me you didn’t, for the love of all that is honorable Ladislava I swear.” 

“It wasn’t so simple, Randolph!” Ladislava’s voice gave away that she knew her excuses were weak, but she continued anyway. “I simply got busy. I got deployed a few days after the date, and then I got back and Manuela was busy working with a team that had returned from the front lines for magic training, and then I got shipped back out, and now… well she’s a very busy woman, and I’m sure she has plenty of suitors. I’d be rude to impose and try reappearing so long afterward.” 

“You are such a smart woman which makes it all the more infuriating when you are such a dumb bitch!” Randolph screamed over the sound of rushing air as they neared the ground by the stable. 

“I beg your pardon!” Ladislava looked ready for murder. 

“You heard me!” Randolph shot back. Ladislava neared the ground, and as Randolph saw her pull just a bit ahead, he grew another wicked grin and prayed that Ladislava would forgive him for what he was about to do. Hell, she’d probably thank him for it later, either that or try to kill him. 

Flayn was sitting on a cot in the medical bay, a notebook and pen resting on one thigh and a large tome discussing the fundamentals of reason magic on the other, as she was in the midst of another day of study. Of course, ‘day’ was likely a generous term for it, as she herself was rather easily distracted. Such as when Mercedes sauntered into the room, a small basket of fruit in hand, and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and by dropping an apple into her lap, the only thing stopping the fruit from hitting the ground or the cot being the fabric of Flayn’s skirt. 

“Good morning Mercy!” Flayn said as Mercedes stood back up. “Hey! Get back down here!” Mercedes rolled her eyes and leaned down a bit more, feeling Flayn’s hand tug on the fabric of her shawl and pull her down into a small peck on the lips. “That’s better!” Flayn said with a giggle, taking a bite from her apple and going back to her notes. 

“You are too cute, my light.” Mercedes said, moving to Manuela’s desk and placing the basket down before plopping onto the cot beside her partner. “How is studying?” 

“Fine. But it seems so confusing right now. Marianne made it seem so easy when we trained together.” 

“That’s because for her, it is easy.” Mercedes said, draping herself over Flayn’s shoulders. “Meanwhile, you are the most talented healer I’ve ever seen, and she simply can’t make it work. Some people just have their areas of expertise.” 

“Well, I want my area of expertise to include this.” Flayn said, somewhere in the vague grey area between determined and stubborn. Mercedes thought it was cute. 

“Well, I’m sure if you keep trying it will eventually figure itself out, my love.” 

“I hope so.” Flayn said, taking another bite from her apple as she wrote a small note on her pad of paper. “How were Dorothea and Bernadetta?” 

“They were fine. Bernadetta was spreading mulch over the ground near that iris of hers, and Dorothea seemed lost in thought, but they were both very sweet. I worry about them, some days.” 

“They’ll be fine.” Flayn said with such certainty it was as if she could see the future, and Mercedes realized she’d never asked if Flayn could see the future. Was that inappropriate of her to ask? She was new to knowing a saint, let alone bedding one. 

“Well, I hope so.” Mercedes said, nuzzling herself into Flayn’s shoulder. “They seem so down without Petra.” 

“It’s difficult to be away from the people we hold dear.” Flayn’s words were quiet as they left her lips, more like escaping thoughts than statements. “Even when we know it’s for a good reason.” 

“That is very true. But some days it’s important to pay attention to those closest to us.” Mercedes hinted, finding it rather cute how it seemed to go right over Flayn’s head. 

“I agree.” 

“Oh for goddess’s sake.” Mercedes muttered to herself, hooking a finger under Flayn’s chin and dangling herself over the shorter woman, all-but-tackling her in a kiss. Flayn giggled and held Mercedes’ face as they kissed, until the blonde pulled away from her. 

“You were trying to get my attention the entire time, weren’t you?” Flayn asked, a bit embarrassed.

“Mhmmm. I even undid a button of my blouse on the way in.” 

“All you had to do was tell me you wanted a kiss.” 

“Hehe, but where in the world is the fun in that?” Mercedes asked, leaning down for another kiss. 

“Allright, you two, calm it down or at the very least don’t do it in my office.” Manuela ordered, making both women jump with a shout before hurriedly scuttling away from each other. “I swear I need to get a damned spray bottle with you two.” 

“Manuela, I think you’re being a bit overdramatic.” Mercedes said, rather offended. 

“I’m an actress, my dear, that is my entire personality.” Manuela said, almost bored as she looked at the few letters on her desk. “Did anything of interest happen while I was eating, or were you two too busy slobbering over each other to notice?” 

“Nothing of interest.” Flayn said, taking a bite of her apple. 

“Well, that’s good at least. It’s a nice quiet day, we need one of those.” Manuela said, breaking the cardinal rule of never saying the ‘q’ word in the medical wing. 

There was a loud scuffle at the door, followed by a heavy knock. The three women in the medical wing turned to see Ladislava limping into the room with the aid of her co-commander Randolph.

“Goddess have mercy, what happened?” Manuela asked, dropping the mail in her hand and moving to Ladislava’s side. 

“She slipped off of her wyvern on the return trip back from the Faergus Dukedom. She’s pretty banged up. I had to carry her all the way from the stables.” Randolph explained. 

“Oh please.” Ladislava said as she was sat onto a cot. “You supported almost none of my weight, you deceitful scoundrel.” 

“Fine, fine so maybe I didn’t carry her, but she’s definitely pretty banged up.” Randolph clarified. 

“Because you ran your wyvern into mine when we were landing and flung me from my mount, you little gnat!. I did not ‘fall’ off of anything.” Ladislava said through the occasional grunt of pain. 

“Calm down, the both of you. Whatever the situation, she’s in good hands.” Manuela assured Randolph, shooing him away. 

“I’m certain she is, Lady Casagranda.” Randolph said, turning to leave, a smug smile on his face. 

“Where are you hurt, Ladislava?” Manuela asked the bloodied woman. 

“Everywhere.” Ladislava groaned, leaning back against the wall. “It feels as if my entire body is an overripe watermelon., sloshing around in agony.” 

“Hmmm, certainly descriptive.” Manuela mumbled to herself, leaning down and weaving her fingers through the straps of Ladislava’s armor. “Let us try and see what damage has been done, and I’ll see how I can help. Mercedes, could you-” Manuela turned to the cot where the two girls had been, only to see Flayn sat, legs kicking off of the side of the cot as she scribbled notes into a paper pad. “Where is Mercedes?” 

“Oh, Jeritza came to get her. He seemed nervous… or maybe constipated? He’s difficult to read.” Flayn said, making Manuela roll her eyes. 

“Well, see if you might grab me some warm water and a rag.” 

“Yes ma’am!” Flayn said, hopping up and marching away.

“Why do you need a rag? Surely there is not that much blood.” Ladislava pondered as Manuela undid her chestpiece, then helped her slide free of the armor.

‘There isn’t, but I figured that would occupy her for some time, and give us a bit of privacy.” Manuela helped Ladislava out of her bloodied shirt as she let the taunt slip from her lips. 

“Ah, I see. So deceitful, Lady Manuela, truly you’re a scoundrel out of one of your books, intent to have her way with me.” Ladislava’s eyes were half lidded as she spoke, her voice as joking and playful as Manuela had ever heard it. She wasn’t sure if she should take that as a good sign or a sign of head trauma.

“Oh, nothing of the sort.” Manuela said, flicking the woman in the forehead, making the knight chuckle as she rubbed the sore spot. “ I simply assumed you would rather not be examined for wounds with another person in the room.It’s not my fault I’ve seen more of you when you’re injured then I have on our singular date.” Manuela teased back, noting just the slightest hint of embarrassment. 

“I suppose it is not.” Ladislava said, chewing her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

“What kept you away for so long, then?” Manuela asked, her hands glowing as they ran across Ladislava’s arms, up toward her shoulders. 

“Just… being busy.” 

“Then why do you sound so guilty?” Manuela rested her hands on Ladislava’s shoulders, and Ladislava felt warmth flood her aching muscles, unwinding knots and tension that felt as if they’d been building for years. 

“Because it was as much my own cowardice as my obligations that kept me away.” Ladislava admitted, finding her lips seeming to be growing looser as her muscles did the same. Manuela nodded, feeling slightly reassured. 

She had known Ladislava was deploying shortly after their date, but when she’d heard that the knight had returned only to leave again after almost 5 days on the campus without seeing her, well she’d thought there was meant to be a hint, it didn’t help that when Ladislava had walked her to her dormitory, she was sent off with a kiss on the cheek and little more, despite her offer for a cup of coffee. She had simply assumed that Ladislava was not too keen on her, and wanted to remain professional about it. 

“I had never thought of you as a coward.” Manuela was feeling her magic flow through Ladislava, grazing along and patching a fracture here, bruising there, and other small injuries. 

“One finds it quite easy to learn how to hide it around matters of the battlefield.” Ladislava said.

“Ah, so going back to war was easier than speaking to me? Am I really that intimidating?” Manuela asked, seeming genuinely worried as she furrowed her brows. 

“No. You misunderstand me. The battlefield is a place where deception and defense are the keys to survival. Matters of the heart are quite the opposite. It only works if you bare yourself entirely. Vulnerability, honesty, those are skills that a warrior finds little need for. I am simply a woman who grows attached quickly, and rarely manages to hold the confidence to see if that attachment is mutual.” Ladislava admitted, looking up at Manuela as if she had just confessed to being a quarter wyvern on her father’s side. “And I’m afraid when I had the opportunity to come find you again, I found my confidence rather shaken, so I did what I do best, and devoted myself to my work. Killing is easy in war, caring is far more difficult.” Ladislava mumbled, leaning back and closing her eyes as she felt something mend in her shoulder. 

“I see.” Manuela bit her lip, allowing the message she heard whispered between the lines of Ladislava’s admission to build her own confidence for just a moment. She’d gotten this far on doing things her own way, why not now? 

Manuela moved her hands away from Ladislava, however before the knight could register enough to miss the touch, she felt a weight grow in her lap. That weight just so happened to be Manuela herself, who was now straddling the woman, her hands back on Ladislava’s shoulders, only this time pulling the knight toward her and pressing a kiss to her lips. 

Of all the words that likely could have applied to Ladislava at that moment, such as bloodied, bruised, battered, injured, or nervous, one that stood out most in that instant was a rather unexpected word. Hungry. That was the only word Manuela could use to describe the way Ladislava’s rough, calloused hands grasped at her, one cupping her cheek while the other tangled itself in the hair on the back of her head, pulling her even deeper into the kiss as the two seemed to melt into one another. 

Manuela felt Ladislava’s thumb trace a slow line up the length of her jaw, as if trying to map it out within her mind. She expected several things to happen at that point, that didn't. She’d expected teeth on her bottom lip, on her neck, on her earlobe. She expected hands coyly ‘aiming’ for her hips to ‘accidentally’ cup her backside, or perhaps to reach up and drag aside the straps of her dress. There was so much raw energy being felt behind Ladislava’s lips that it was astounding to Manuela that it seemed all she intended to do was exactly what she was doing, pressing them against hers, holding her tight yet with such care that Manuela wondered if Ladislava thought her made of glass, fearful she might break her. 

When they finally did pull away from each other, as Ladislava was gasping for air, Manuela leaned down, resting her head on the knight’s shoulder. 

“Does that help with the shaken confidence?” Menuela asked, earning a weak chuckle from the woman beneath her. 

“I suppose so. Although it does little for the shooting pain in my hip.” Ladislava said. Manuela went wide eyed.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier you little-“ Ladislava’s hand resting on her knee made her go quiet. 

“It was a joke, Manuela. Do not worry, I am very much enjoying having you so close.” Ladislava said, a coy smile on her lips as she continued to trace a line across Manuela’s cheek with her thumb. The healer leaned back against her patient, kissing gently along her neck. 

“Mmmm, I never thought you would be the type to tease, Ladislava.” Manuela could only grin, continuing her trail of pecks. After a little while, she slid her hand along the one Ladislava still had on her knee whispering into her ear. “You’re welcome to slide that hand a bit...higher, if you’d like.” 

“As wonderful as that sounds… I think I would rather take things slow.” Manuela sat back, looking at Ladislava with such apologetic eyes that Ladislava felt equal parts confused and heartbroken. 

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry, Ladislava, I must have misunderstood what you were trying to say earlier, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I-” Yet again, Ladislava’s hand quieted her, stopping her in place as she had begun moving to get off of Ladislava’s lap, but now the knight had a hand on either side of her face, cupping it and turning her to look her in the eye. 

“Manuela, there is no apology needed. I am not uncomfortable, and you misunderstood nothing. Believe me, I hold no small appreciation for your beauty, but I am, ahem, ‘less traveled’ in those fields then I am in the field of battle, and while it might just be my hesitancy… I want to know you better before we move there. I find you enthralling, Lady Casagranda, and even over months of not seeing you, I have found myself unable to escape the thought of wishing to know utterly everything about you.” 

Manuela looked at Ladislava, confused. She had no idea how to respond, there was so much boiling in the back of her mind that she just couldn’t think at all, let alone of what to say. If someone didn’t want her for her body, what could they see in her? The one time she had used that phrase, ‘take it slow’, it had been her trying to dress up a ‘no’ in hopes it would help it be headed. It hadn’t. 

That was why she had felt so much terror when Ladislava had said it. The thought that perhaps she had misunderstood, had pushed herself atop the woman when she wasn’t wanted filled her with a sickly dread that crawled up her spine only to shoot back down and slam into the pit of her stomach. 

But then Ladislava held her in place, not to force herself farther along, but to reassure her that she was wanted, her, not just her flesh, her. She was easily 10 years older than Ladislava, if not more, and yet in all her life only two others had ever held her with as much unrepentant care as Ladislava, treated her with such respect. She’d been on a single date with the woman, for goddess’s sake, and yet Manuela felt more safe there in her lap in that moment then she had ever felt with anyone. But it still just didn’t make sense to her. 

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong, Manuela.” Ladislava said, snapping Manuela from her thoughts as she felt a thumb drag along the underside of her eye. Why would she do that?

Then Manuela realized she was crying. From the looks of the front of Ladislava’s shirt, she’d been doing it for at least a few minutes. 

“Was it the name?” Ladislava asked? In her rush to get her words out before her nerves clamped her mouth shut, she’d forgotten what Manuela had said about being called ‘Lady Casagranda’. 

“No…” Manuela said, sniffling as she felt Ladislava’s other thumb wipe another tear from her cheek. “No, Ladi, my dear, you said nothing wrong. I just… I’m sorry, I’ve become such a mess.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Manuela. May I hold you?” 

“Am I mistaken or are you not already doing that?” 

“Closer, I mean.” Manuela giggled as Ladislava clarified what she had meant, before nodding yes and feeling herself be wrapped in Ladislava’s arms, before there was a soft peck on her forehead. 

“Manuela! I brought the bucket you asked forOH MY GODDESS!” Flayn shrieked as she saw the two of them, dropping the bucket and covering her eyes, slowly backing away toward the door. “And you have the nerve to say me and Mercy are bad!” 

“Flayn calm yourself. We’re both still decent.” Manuela said, waiting for the girl to leave. “And please do make sure to close the door on your way-” 

“Hey, Mani, have you seen Iness-Oh my goddess, Mani really? The fucking cot?” Catherine said as she walked in behind Flayn, making Manuela roll her eyes. Of course, she shows up then too. Manuela wiped her cheek, and that was about when Catherine saw her puffy eyes and red cheeks, before looking between her and Ladislava. “Did you make her cry?” Catherine said, pointing to Manuela while glaring at Ladislava. She began marching toward the knight, her hand reaching for thunderbrand. “I swear to the goddess I’ll gut you if you made her-” 

“Cat, stop!” Manuela said, now standing on her own two feet, making the Emperor’s bodyguard go immediately still. Not in the way of a spell or manipulation, no, in the way of simple old fashioned obedience. “Ladislava is fine, and there will be no gutting in my medical bay today. Understood?” 

“Understood.” Catherine said, a bit embarrassed as she let her hand drop from Thunderbrand’s handle. 

“Understood…?” Manuela said expectantly, making Catherine blush. 

“Oh hell no. I’m not calling you that ever again.” Catherine said. She knew Manuela was screwing with her, as she’d been vocal about never using ‘that’ nickname again outside of the bedroom, but it aggravated her that the older woman still knew how to push her buttons. She quickly tried to change the subject as she turned to Ladislava. “Sorry about the ‘I’ll gut you’ thing.” 

“No, no. I understand perfectly.” Ladislava said, half sincerely and half just trying to figure out what in the hell the other two were talking about. “Given the roles reversed, I’d likely be much the same. I’m afraid I’d be little fun in combat at the moment, however.”

“Anyway, Kitten, what did you need, when you so rudely interrupted?” Manuela asked, crossing her arms. 

“Oh! Right. Have you seen Inessa and Sylvia? We’ve been searching the campus for almost 3 hours and no one has seen hide nor tail of either of them.” 

“No, I haven’t seen either.” Manuela said, concern evident on her face. “Did you check with the sitters in the barracks?” 

“Three times.” Catherine reported. “And I checked the greenhouse twice, Sylvia isn’t swimming in the fishing pond, and the tea salesmen has only seen Inessa once all of today.” 

“Oh goddess.” 

“I know.” Catherine said, the fear evident in her face. 

“Ok, give me a moment to grab my things and I’ll help look.” Maunela said. 

“Thanks Mani. You’re welcome to come along too, ponytail.” Catherine said, pointing to Ladislava. 

“No, she can not. She needs bedrest, doctor’s orders.” Manuela yelled over her shoulder. 

“Oh, ok, invitation cancelled I guess, Ponytail.” 

“I have a name, you know.” The knight reminded her. 

“I’m aware.” Catherine said, shrugging. 

“Kitten, play nice!” Manuela yelled again from the back room. 

“Yes, ‘Kitten’, play nice.” Ladislava echoed, taunting the blonde tiredly. For a moment she wondered if Catherine was going to return to threatening to disembowel her, but the guard instead raised her hands in surrender. 

“Ok, Ladislava, truce?” Catherine offered.

“Not on your life, oaf.” Ladislava said, laughing as she laid back in the cot. 

Shamir and her two prattling hangers-on had been stationed outside of the monastery for nearly an hour and a half at that point, watching through a spyglass and a pair of binoculars as the various civilians and soldiers made their ways to-and-fro all around the campus. 

“Seeing anything of interest on your end?” Shamir asked, looking to Ingrid. 

“Nothing. Just people milling about the campus.” Ingrid mumbled, focused on her observation. 

“I told you both. You aren’t going to see shit from outside of the Monastery.” Sylvain said, leaning against the trunk of the tree on the same branch as the other two. “What are you even hoping to find? Some giant brainwashing obelisk in the center of the grounds clearly labeled ‘Evil-shit-doer, do not destroy’?” 

“If you wish to keep that tongue firmly attached to the rest of you I’d suggest keeping it still.” Shamir muttered, making Ingrid chuckle as Sylvain grumbled in humiliation. 

“I must learn how you are so skilled at keeping him quiet.” Ingrid said as she watched the facility. 

“He knows my threats aren’t empty. That is the secret.” 

“Huh, makes sense…” Ingrid shot up. “I see her.” 

“Where?” Shamir asked. 

“By the greenhouse.” 

“Again? That’s the fourth time… Manuela is with her. Hmmmm…” 

“They’re looking for something, this could be promising.” 

“But what is it they’re looking for?” Shamir wondered, dropping her spyglass. 

They got an answer a few minutes later as they heard a high pitched wail off in the distance. Ingrid and Sylvain both looked to Shamir for guidance, but the mercenary had already leapt to the ground and was off on her way, lance drawn and ready.

She knew the sound of a child screaming in fear, and she wasn’t one to leave it alone. 

“Mommy!” The voice came again, giving Shamir a better idea of its location, soon followed by a ravenous squealing, and another scream. “Mommy, help!” 

“Sylvia! Don’t move!” A new voice called.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao, So there we go, a big old pile of fluffy-angsty-goodness! I'm really glad I gave Manuela and Ladislava some more spotlight time, and the whole "Ladislava got nervous and stopped visiting Manuela" plotline TOTALLY didn't sprout out of me forgetting to write cute scenes for them in the chapters prior. Totally not, why would you ever say that?
> 
> But yeah, Ladislava is a uhaul lesbian, and also not exactly the smoothest with the ladies. She tried that 'fake it till you make it', and it didn't work lol. 
> 
> Also! Flayncedes content! Yay! Very very exciting! If you can't tell, I very much write several of the characters as nuerodivergent, Flayn being autistic and having adhd, Edelgard dealing with executive dysfunction, Catherine being autistic (hair ruffling being a stim for her) and other's dealing with other issues, but I really love writing Flayn and mercy because it's just so fun to shower flayn with love via mercedes cus I feel like autistic folks are forced to decide between 'masking' or being seen as 'too childish/weird to be loved' and fuck that. 
> 
> I kinda want folks opinions. I write Catherine with background and connections to a LOT of other characters, both in the monastery and outside, cus I feel like it lends her more of an 'aged and experienced' vibe, and shows that she has much more experience around the people of garreg mach than say, Byleth or Edelgard who both came in at the same time, but I sometimes worry that it makes Catherine seem like almost a mary sue, I.e "she's friends with everyone" type stuff, especially given how this portion of the fic is heavily focused on her and Edelgard's relationship at the moment, but I wanna hear y'all's opinions cus I am aware I'm my own toughest critic. Thoughts and opinions would be very appreciated in the comments, andI hope you all enjoyed this weeks chapter-snippet!


	34. Chapter 31: Sometimes things can just be simple.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t need to sleep there if you don’t want to.” Edelgard said, hesitating for a moment. “You also don’t have to sleep alone.” Catherine looked Edelgard in the eye, confused for a moment, before realizing what Edelgard was trying to say. 
> 
> “Are you sure?” Catherine asked. “You don’t need to do something just to make me feel better. If it’s not something you’re comfortable with, I don’t want you to feel like you need to. You deserve to feel safe.” 
> 
> “And when I’m with you, I do.” Edelgard said. “I want you to feel the same. Please, don’t think i’m ordering you to say yes. If you don’t want to, I absolutely understand, but… the offer is there.” 
> 
> “I… I would like that, but…” Edelgard looked at Catherine, concern apparent. “I, Edelgard, I can’t be a replacement for Byleth. I… I won’t be a replacement for Byleth.” 
> 
> “You aren’t, Catherine.” 
> 
> “Promise?” 
> 
> “On my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! This chapter changed SIGNIFICANTLY between my first-draft of it and this version. I'll explain how at the end note, but I hope you all like it! I'm really excited to see y'all's reactions. 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage

Chapter 31-part 2

“Sylvia! Don’t move!” A new voice called, and Shamir heard the scuttling of stomping hoofs and that new voice shriek. She burst through the treeline into a clearing, and was left staring down a massive feral boar. To one side, she could see a little girl with long brown hair tied in a pair of pigtails clinging to the trunk of a tree as she stood on a low hanging branch. On the other, she could see a woman, no older than 23, in a dirt-smeared dress hanging from a branch of her own, legs pulled close to her chest as she seemed to be trying to avoid the boars tusks. The woman saw Shamir as Ingrid joined them in the clearing, and relief seemed to flood her eyes. “Please, help.” 

“You’re going to be alright, miss.” Ingrid tried to assure, but Shamir was already moving, choking her grip up higher on the lance and kneeling down, shooting like an arrow toward the beast and driving her blade into its haunch, making it squeal in pain before thrashing out of her grasp, flinging her into a tree. 

Shamir struggled to her feet as the boar came at her again, fury plain in its beady eyes as it tried to drive its tusks into her flesh. Shamir pushed off of the ground, using her lance to aid her before shoving her boots into the base of the tree, launching herself overtop of the boar and leaving it to smash head-first into the thick maple. She clambered onto the boar’s back, pulling a knife from her belt as the beast began trying to buck her off, at one point smashing its own head into Shamir’s, leaving the mercenary seeing stars and barely clinging to the beast.

Ingrid moved to help her ally, swiping at the boar with her lance, distracting it from the Dagdan on its back just long enough for her to regain her senses, reaching down and driving her blade into the artery in the base of the beasts neck, sending blood splattering out like a barrage of arrows, catching Ingrid in some of the ensuing carnage. The boar collapsed, twitching and convulsing beneath her. She wiped the blade clean on its hide, replacing her weapon and looking around. Ingrid was left cleaning herself off as she moved toward Sylvain, who seemed to be helping the young woman crawl out of the tree. Shamir trudged over to the girl on the branch. 

“It’s ok. You’re safe now.” Shamir said, smiling as best she could and reaching up, offering her hand. There was quite a bit more distance, and so Shamir tried to goad the girl forward. “Go ahead and jump. I’ll catch you.” The girl seemed hesitant. 

“My mommy says not to listen to strangers.” The girl said between weak sniffles, and Shamir felt torn between wanting to swear and the thought of complimenting the mom for good parenting whenever she met her. 

“That’s smart of her. What’s your name, sweetheart?” 

“S...Sylvia.” 

“Well, Sylvia, my name’s Shamir.” 

“H...Hi Shamer.” Shamir decided now wasn’t exactly the best time to correct a still-slightly-crying child on pronouncing her name. 

“Well, now we’re not strangers anymore, are we?” Shamir asked, and it seemed as if Sylvia needed to do the math on that in her head before she replied. 

“No, I guess not...” 

“Well, why don’t you come down and i’ll get you to your mama?” Sylvia nodded, scooting her feet over toward the edge of the branch and visibly shaking in fear before squeezing her eyes shut and hopping off of the side, landing with a soft thud into Shamir’s arms. Even with the mercenary making sure to bend her knees to lighten the blow, the weight of the kid dropping onto her nearly knocked the wind from her lungs more than the boar had. “Good job!” Shamir choked out. “You were really brave.” She added, holding the girl to her as she moved over to the rest of her ‘team’, though she used the word in its loosest possible sense.

“Are you sure you’re ok ma’am?” Sylvain asked. 

“Syl, I swear to the goddess.” Ingrid grumbled as Sylvain looked at her, appalled. 

“You know I have some sense of decency, right?” Sylvain pointed out, a hand on hip. 

“One we very rarely see, perhaps.” Shamir grumbled. Sylvain was going to respond until he found himself promptly knocked onto his ass as Inessa ran to Shamir, bowling right through him and nearly tackling the taller mercenary to the ground in a hug. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Oh goddess, I was so afraid.” The woman looked up at Sylvia “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. Don’t you ever run off like that again, understood?” Sylvia nodded, and the woman began looking her over for any tears in her clothes or wounds or signs of blood.

“Yeah kid.” Sylvain said, walking up to the trio alongside Ingrid. “Listen to your sister. You don’t know what kinda trouble can be lurking out here.” Sylvia looked confused, but seemed to stop thinking about it as Shamir tried to hand her over. The child seemed glued to Shamir at the hip, both of her tiny arms wrapped like iron vices around her neck. After several attempts to peel her off, the woman sighed and shook her head. 

“I’m not her sister.” She said, dusting off the front of Sylvia’s shirt as best she could from the angle she was at. “I’m her mother. I’m Inessa, and this is my daughter, Sylvia.” Sylvia said hi, her voice slightly muffled by the fabric of Shamir’s jacket while still clinging to her. Shamir looked at the woman, Inessa, and saw several things she’d missed in her primary observation, the long scar across her left cheek, and where her sleeves on the green dress she wore had hiked up she noticed long, wide scarring on either wrist, shackle marks, by her guess, years worth of them. Then there was the age difference between mother and daughter, the second seeming to be no younger than 7 or 8 while the first probably wasn’t even past her early twenties, even with the worry lines etched into her face and the grey hairs in her hair, the brown locks woven into a loose braid. She saw bright green eyes just like Sylvia’s looking at her, and realized Inessa was speaking to her. 

‘I’m sorry, I missed what you said.” Shamir admitted, drawing a confused look from Ingrid. 

“I asked you what your name was, ma’am.” 

“Her name is Shamer.” Sylvia said, making Shamir chuckle. 

“Close, kiddo.” Shamir said before offering Inessa her hand. “My name is Shamir Nevrand, Lady Inessa.” 

“Miss Nevrand, there is no need for such formality. I’m no noble.” Inessa said with pride as she grabbed the hand that had been extended. “Come, I know the others will want to thank you as well.” Inessa said, grabbing Ingrid as well and practically dragging them along behind her toward the Monastery, leaving Sylvain behind, yet again abandoned to gawk in a field.

‘Did… Did both of my fucking teammates just get taken hostage by a milf?!” Sylvain asked no one in particular, stood there for a long while before shaking his head, picking his weapon off of the ground and moving for Faergus. Shamir and ingrid were on their own, he was intent to get out of the shitshow before something else asinine happened. 

“Emil, what are you doing back? I thought you were with that Lord?” Mercedes asked, perched out under the gazebo by her brother. He stood in the shade, looking out at the flowers after having found her in the medical bay. 

“I was in service to Lord Arundel, yes, but I have been sent back to Lady Edelgard upon his request. I was glad to be sent back, as I have wanted for some time to come and see you. I am glad you have agreed to see me, I was worried given how our last conversation went, you might not wish to be near me at all.” Emil said, hands resting at his sides. 

“Emil, I told you that could never happen. You’re my little brother.” Mercedes said, giggling as she pinched the tall man’s cheek. “I suppose ‘little’ doesn’t exactly apply anymore.” 

“I suppose not. And I am glad you were willing to speak with me today. I have wanted to apologize. Not just for my absence now, but… well my absence in your life since our mother’s passing. I have missed you, Mercedes.” Emil said, sighing as he looked down on her, the bright grin on her cheek almost feeling contagious. Almost. She had changed, since he had last seen her. No longer wearing her uniform, she now wore a gown colored like cream that hung down just below her knees, and he could see the plume of matching cream trousers tucking into a pair of lightly tanned leather boots. She wore a blue shawl over her shoulders that was held together by three large golden buttons at her neck. The biggest part, however, was definitely the smile. He was never the greatest at reading people, Death Knight was the part that knew how to tell someone’s intentions, but even Emil could see his sister was happier now than she had been their first time speaking. “How… have you been?” 

Emil was not wonderful at small talk, but Mercedes was more than happy to make up for his lacking skill. They stood for a while, talking about the school year, all those years ago, how Mercedes had come to know the Eagles, and then how she had ended up stranded in the Monastery, joining the strike force and all the rest. Well, everything but one. 

“- So then Ferdinand and Caspar just begin listing all the places that those two have been caught, and they just get redder and redder with every item added to the list. I swear, I thought Leonie was going to boil, she was so red! Hehehe, of course, I was about as red after Dorothea started teasing myself and Flayn, so perhaps I ought not judge.” 

“You’ve mentioned her quite a bit, as of late.” 

“Who, Leonie?” Mercedes asked. 

“No, Flayn.” Emil said, making his sister blush. “Who is she?” 

“Oh. Well…” Mercedes toyed with her fingers, smiling even wider as she looked up at her brother. “Actually, she is my partner.” 

“Ah, a team mate then.” 

“Well, no. I mean yes, she is part of the strikeforce, but well, she and I are, um, romantically intertwined.”

“That is… wonderful, Mercedes!” Emil began, trying his best at being supportive. “I am so, um, happy (?) for you. I do hope you’ve been lucky and found a kind young woman to keep your company.”

“If she hurts you I’ll slit the bitch open like a pig sow!” The metallic echo of the voice of the Death Knight screamed inside his mind. Emil shook his head, pushing it away as he tried to remind himself it was he who held control. He would not allow that beast’s suggestions to phase him, not now. Now was his time with his sister, who was at that moment tittering like a girl half a decade younger. 

“She is a very kind woman, Emil. She has stood by me through some of my worst moments. Though there have been difficult times, I am truly happy with her, and she makes me happier to be me.” 

“Then I’m sure I will… get along great, with her.” Emil said, having absolutely no idea what he was meant to say in this situation. He was thankful for the simplicity of the world of the Death Knight at times. Kill or be killed, it was easy to understand, and easy to manage. This? He was lost. 

“I am certain you will! How long are you back for?” Mercedes asked. 

“For the foreseeable future. Although, her majesty will likely have ample need of me and my skill.” 

“Oh that is perfect! I will find a time where we can all have dinner together! I’m so excited.” Mercedes was absolutely bouncing where she stood. She leaned over, hugging Emil close as he bristled in her grasp. “Thank you, baby brother.” 

“Of… of course, Mercedes.” Emil said. He couldn’t help, however, that the name ‘Flayn’ sounded familiar, but he simply couldn’t place where. 

Shamir was not really the type to let herself be dragged around by a pretty woman. The last time she let that happen, she ended up crying like a schoolgirl for hours after it had blown up in her face. But yet, she did nothing to protest as she was pulled through the front gates of Garreg Mach by a brunette and her little girl, who at that moment, for reasons Shamir couldn’t quite understand, was sat on her hip and being held up by the one arm her mom had not taken. 

“What’s the plan, Shamir?” Ingrid asked, a hushed whisper so low it could barely be heard over the sounds of their steps. “This woman has a… shockingly tight grip.” 

“You’re telling me. Like mother, like daughter.” Shamir replied. “Keep calm. With how many soldiers and fighters there are, it’s likely there won’t be anyone who recognizes us. Just lay low and we’ll try and make it through today.” 

“And then what?” 

“Then, we-” That was about when an arrow buried into the wall behind Shamir, cutting her off.

“Intruder! North gate! They have hostages!” Leonie shouted from her seat atop Lancealot, already drawing another arrow as several other people began rounding corners and running toward them. Leonie had her arrow lined up, ready to fire, as a loud crash came from behind Shamir, and when the Mercenary and her younger comrade looked up, they saw a familiar silver-haired squire, a bow aimed awkwardly down at them as she sat astride a massive green wyvern that was clinging to the walls of the monastery. 

“Drop the kid and let the woman go, now!” Ashe bellowed, although judging by the hitch in her voice, Shamir would guess she was not nearly as confident in her aim as Leonie was her own. All the shouting and crashing around seemed to have put the fear of the goddess into poor Sylvia, who began sobbing into Shamir’s shoulder, arms clinging somehow even tighter to her neck. Inessa looked around, utterly bewildered by the response that her friends had given, and tried to step forward. 

“Wait! Stop, there has to be some sort of mistake!” Inessa said, her voice being slightly drowned out by more bootsteps. 

Ingrid could be called many things, but level headed was never one of them. As everything moved into more and more chaos, she finally found Inessa’s grip lax enough to slip out of, quickly drawing her lance from her shoulder, bracing her back against Shamir’s and pointing the tip of her weapon at the archer dangling from the wall. There was more than a dozen feet between them, so the threat was as empty as a rotted log after termites had gotten to it, but Ingrid was more focused on doing something than doing the smart thing. 

“Don’t move an inch closer, Imperial scum!” Ingrid shouted, whispering over her shoulder. “Hold tight to the kid, if need be we can use her as a ticket out of here.” 

“Will you calm down? That is not fucking happening, and you’re not helping the situation.” Shamir badgered, trying to help Sylvia calm down. “It’s gonna be ok sweetheart, don’t worry.” 

Leonie looked confusedly between everyone as Catherine rounded the corner, Thunderbrand in hand, eyes glowing bright only to falter a moment later when she saw the shitshow unfolding around them. 

“Fuck me.” Catherine muttered to herself. She saw Ashe, and physically held herself back from screaming to Leonie and asking what the fuck the girl was thinking. Her aim was atrocious at the best of times, and now she wanted to throw in two civilians? She groaned, and tried to find a way to calm everything down. “Hey! Weapons down!” 

“Why the hell would we do that?!” Ashe bellowed, not taking her eye off of Shamir. Ingrid and Shamir exchanged glances, curious as to what had happened to the ‘elite strike force’ they had heard so much about. 

“Because it’s an order you dumbass!” Catherine hollered back. 

“Yeah, a foolish one!” Ashe practically spat, distrust clear. Leonie had already lowered her bow, but she saw no hesitation in Ashe’s hands as she held her aim on the mercenary. 

“Ashe, stand down.” Called a new voice in the courtyard, and as the group turned to face it they saw a, slightly paler, Lysithea and Edelgard stood side by side. With a half-hearted mutter, Ashe took her arrow away from the bowstring, and righted herself before goading Seteth to land on the ground. Before Shamir could move to stop her, Ingrid moved to face all of the Adrestian fighters, lance still bared. 

“Good, now just let us walk free, and no one gets-“ Ingrid found herself unable to continue her bargaining as Shamir struck her in the back of the head, knocking her unconscious with the wood of her bow. The knight fell in a clump on the ground. 

“Fucking idiot, I said to be calm. You’re worse than Sylvain, I swear.” Shamir muttered, dropping the bow and lifting her hand in the air, a clear sign of surrender. 

Edelgard walked over to Inessa, who hurriedly tried to explain the situation as Shamir simply stood, bobbing up and down trying to calm Sylvia as the girl continued to cry. Catherine waited until Edelgard gave her a small nod, and then sheathed her blade as she walked over to the two women. 

“It appears.” Edelgard began as Catherine, Leonie, and Ashe all gathered around them. “That we owe Miss Nevrand and Lady Galatea a great deal of thanks. If not for them then a boar might’ve hurt our two guests.” As she explained the situation, Inessa moved, trying again to pry the somewhat calmed-down Sylvia from Shamir’s hip. Yet again, the girl failed to let go. 

“Well, what should we do about them?” Leonie asked in a hushed tone. “Shamir’s been documented as working with the church, and Ingridis one of Faergus’s most decorated knights. This could all be some trick.” 

“I can’t speak for Ingrid, but I know Shamir. She works with the church, but she’s not loyal to them. Never has been.” Catherine made clear, her hand on the shortsword at her hip. 

“You speak of her with such certainty. Have you two been in contact often lately?” Ashe asked, accusation plain. Catherine scowled, rolling her eyes. 

“She had an opportunity to strike us down while we were on the road, and she instead told her ally at the time to retreat. If she were as devout to the cause as others, she would have taken the opportunity.” Edelgard recounted. “I am afraid that I however have less of an understanding of why Ingrid is here. She was very clear in her distaste for us, and as daft as Dimitri is I doubt highly he’d be foolish enough to send her as a spy.” 

“Then what do we do? We can’t exactly send them on their happy way home with a gift basket, but I don’t feel right slaughtering them when they saved Inessa and Sylvia.” Leonie looked conflicted as she scratched at the back of her head. 

“We could try recruiting them?” Lysithea offered. “Give them the same speech you gave myself, Mercedes and Flayn and see how they take to it?” 

“Did you miss the part about ‘one of the most decorated knights in the holy kingdom’? I doubt there’s anything that could shake Ingrid from her bullshit.” Ashe added. 

“But, a few years ago I’d have said the same of Mercedes or Catherine, and look at the strike force today. Catherine, what do you think would be the best route to try and sway Shamir to the side of Adrestia?” Edelgard asked. 

“Gold.” Shamir said before Catherine could even reply, startling everyone around them, making Sylvia giggle as she saw them all jump. 

“Would you care to explain?” Edelgard asked. 

“Gold is the beginning and end of my tie to the church. Promise me more, and I’ll happily trade sides. Those pious rat-fuckers have been getting on my nerves as of late.” 

“Hey, be careful with the language around the kid.” Catherine said,making Shamir double take. Catherine looked away to avoid Shamir’s questioning glance. 

“Is it really so simple?” Lysithea asked, a brow quirked. 

“I like things simple. My standard fee is three hundred gold a week. But, I’ll ask another 300 up front, since I assume you’ll want me to give you what information I have on the church as of now.” 

“That seems reasonable. I’ll have Hubert draw up the contract. Catherine, remain here with her while I find my brother, and someone to ensure lady Galatea’s health after we’ve moved her somewhere appropriate. We’ll deal with her another day, there has been quite enough excitement these past two days.” Edelgard said. 

“Got it, Princess.” Catherine said, somewhat reluctant to be left alone with the mercenary, but agreeing gave her an excuse to ignore Ashe’s distrustful glance as she and Leonie walked to their mounts. 

Soon, Inessa was beside them, again trying to pry Sylvia from Shamir’s shoulder. Finally, she succeeded, and bid the two good bye, but not before letting Shamir know she’d better not be a stranger. Then it was just Shamir and Catherine, standing face to face, or in Shamir’s case face-to-mid-cleavage. Ingrid was still there, of course, collapsed on the ground with drool leaking down the side of her face. There was a long moment of silence as the two seemed to size each other up, familiarity and confusion mixing in equal regard in either woman’s eyes. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Catherine?” Shamir asked, arms crossed. 

“Good to see you too. I’m fine, thanks for asking by the way. How’ve you been?” Catherine replied to a question that hadn’t been asked, her sarcasm covering for her awkwardness. 

“Cut the bullshit, I asked you a question.” 

“Yeah, and I could ask you the exact same. You’re the one who showed up out of nowhere in enemy territory with a kid on your hip and a cutthroat blonde by your side, talking about trading sides. So why don’t you get us started.” Catherine said firmly. Shamir wasn’t used to that much authority in Catherine’s voice. Then again, judging by the change in armor, a lot had changed in the past few years. 

“I was curious.” 

“Gonna have to do better than that, Mi-... Shamir.” Catherine caught herself, muttering a quiet apology. 

“Fine. I saw you on the carriage with the pipsqueak, and assumed I could capture you and turn you over to the Archbishop for a pretty paycheck.” Shamir’s tone made it hard for Catherine to tell if it were a joke or not, but she scowled at the thought, regardless. “Now your turn. What in the hell is with the outfit? You look like a pint of cream that got dragged through a slaughterhouse.” 

“I’m the Emperor’s bodyguard.” Catherine said, gesturing to her armor. “This is the uniform for that role.” 

“How in the hell did that happen?” 

“Long story.” Catherine said with a sigh. 

“I’ve got time.” 

“Yeah well I don’t have the energy.” Catherine snapped as Manuela and Flayn approached, kneeling down and attending to the unconscious knight that both older women had sort of forgotten was still lying at their feet. 

Catherine’s reaction made Shamir curious. She had seen Catherine be angry, she could definitely be a bitch at times, but she was rarely snappy. It was too passive agressive for her, Catherine had always preferred active aggression. Maybe there was something going on. But, she figured better to leave it rest. She thought for a moment, trying to find a less touchy subject as Catherine discussed Ingrid’s situation with the two medics. Soon enough, they carried her off and Catherine returned to standing in front of her. 

“So, how are Joseph and Fredrique?” Shamir asked, hoping to find a more light hearted topic. 

“Dead.” 

Well shit, that didn’t work. 

“I’m… sorry. I know they both meant a lot to you.” Shamir said. “Can I ask how it happened?” 

“It’s the same long story as before.” Catherine said with a weary sigh, running her hand through her hair. Shamir chuckled at the familiar tick. 

“Would telling it over a drink make it easier?” Shamir asked, half joking and half not. 

“... Sure. You know what, why the hell not. It’s been a weird enough day, why not add onto it.” Catherine said, and the two marched off to the dining hall, grabbing two mugs of ale and finding their way up onto their old haunt of the third-floor balcony. 

“So, where do you want to start?” Shamir asked, taking a pull off of her ale as her legs dangled over the edge of the balcony, Catherine beside her. For a moment, the two felt a half-decade younger, like they were back to the people they had been when they’d do this every night after a successful mission. 

“Well, I think I actually ought to start with uh… what I said to you, after you said… everything.” Catherine said, scratching at the back of her head as Shamir just gave her a curious look. “You know, when we split.” 

“Catherine, that was years ago.” 

“I told you it was a long story.” Catherine reminded her, drawing a tired eye roll from the mercenary. “Want me to keep going or not?” 

“Go on, you lumbering jackass.” 

“I swear, you sound just like Princess.” Catherine muttered into her mug before taking a drink. She explained everything, Rhea, the possession, the catacombs, and finally what happened after. “When Princess launched her ‘Glorious Revolution’, I ended up getting put on puppet strings by Rhea and sent after the Black Eagles. Then, when Joe and Freddy went to join them… I got sent after them.” Shamir nodded, taking a long drink from her glass as a toast in the men’s honor. Catherine did the same, downing the rest of her glass before setting her mug down and sliding her half-lance off of her shoulder, handing it over to Shamir. “I ended up only having that left of them. It’s Joe’s old hammer handle.” 

“I didn’t know you were a lance user.” Shamir muttered, twirling the weapon on her fingers. It was hefty, but well balanced. 

“I wasn’t. I ended up having to learn a bit on the fly one night, and just kind of stuck with it.” 

“So how does all of this turn into you being the Emperor’s whipping bitch?” Shamir asked, handing the weapon back over. 

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Catherine said as she slung the weapon back in place. “There isn’t much to that story, really. I spent about a year here in the Monastery, just… recovering from everything. One night I hear a scream from her office, and when I got up there, a whole mess of guys from the Knights were there, ready to kill her. The both of us damn near bit the dust that night, but, well, ever since I’ve been in charge of keeping Princess safe. I figure it’s only fair, you know. She did a lot for me, when I was getting better. She’s helped me feel… safe around myself again.” 

Shamir heard something familiar in Catherine’s voice as she spoke, and looked over to see Catherine toying with the lines of ribbon interweaving on her forearm just beyond her gauntlet. 

“Oh by the gods, you fell in love with the Emperor?!” Shamir asked, making Catherine shoot up. 

“What?! No! What the hell made you think that? You’re fucking imaging shit.” Catherine tried to deny. 

“All these years and you’re still a gods awful liar.” Shamir taunted with a chuckle, making Catherine shake her head. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Shamir held her eyes steady on Catherine, making the woman visibly squirm. “I don’t know what you’re staring at, you’re not right, and glaring at me isn’t going to change that.” Catherine said, crossing her arms defiantly. Another moment longer of simply looking at her, and Shamir chuckled as the knight fell forward, her head in her hands as she groaned out loud. “Fuck, ok, you’re right!” 

“I always am.” Shamir said, downing the rest of her drink. 

“Well at least I didn’t fall for a random single mother and let her drag my happy ass into enemy territory.” Shamir looked over at her, feigning confusion. “Oh please, Mimi, don’t even act like you don’t know exactly what I mean. You were ogling Inessa like a lovestruck teenager the whole time those two had you pinned down with their bows.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about at all.” Shamir lied, much more skilled at it then Catherine, but not skilled enough. 

“Yeah, sure.” Catherine said, pride evident as she let herself breath in the cool breeze, finding joy in the familiarity of this whole situation. 

Maybe she wasn’t so different then she had been before. 

Ingrid could feel herself floating back to consciousness as it was happening, and to call that experience disorienting was the understatement of a lifetime. The dull throbbing left in the back of her head sent a violent pulse of pain through her at the pace of her heartbeat, but there was the slightest hint of relief coming from what she could vaguely understand as her forehead, a cool, calming dampness giving the briefest respite from her agony. That cool sensation gave her something concrete to latch on to, and so she did just that, dragging herself back to consciousness and feeling her eyes flit open, glaring into barely illuminated darkness. She felt the cool sensation pull away, and before she could think the sound of a quiet whine escaped the back of her throat. 

“I’m sorry, give me just a moment.” A familiar voice said, as the sound of sloshing water could be heard, a second later that coolness returned to her forehead, and the slightest relief was restored. “I know it’s not much, but I figured you would probably have a pretty sore noggin once you woke up.” That voice said yet again. 

“Is she finally coming to?” Another voice asked. 

“Yes, sweety. She seems to be trying at least. How hard must Shamir have hit her?” Wait, Ingrid knew that voice. Lady Flayn?

“Well, be careful. I’m going to get Edelgard. She said she wanted to be fetched immediately when she woke.” 

“Ok. Hurry back.” Flayn said. 

“Of course, my love.” The second voice said, and Ingrid finally had her vision come into focus to the sight of Lady Flayn kissing a tall blonde woman before the blonde ran off. An audible noise of disgust left Ingrid’s throat, drawing a rather unimpressed pout from Flayn. “I’ll extend you some consideration and assume that that sound is from your pain.” 

“Apologies, Lady Flayn. I know there is likely little choice in the matter. I had not realized that all the stories of these vile Adrestians had been so understated. Where are we?” Ingrid tried to shift, feeling a manacle around her wrist, straining it with what little strength she had. “Is this some sort of dungeon?” 

“Calm yourself. It’s nothing of the sort, and you have little strength. You’re in the medical wing of the Monastery. You’re safe here.” Flayn assured, resting her hand on Ingrid’s to try and stop her. 

“Safe? In Imperial territory? Lady Flayn, what have they done to you?” Ingrid asked, only straining more against her binds. “Worry not, I’ll find a way out and we can be in Faergus and back to your brother before the next nightfall. I know that Lord Seteth has been worried to the point of ailment since you were kidnapped by the Empire, were he to find out what these loathsome sinful wretches have done, I’m sure he’d fall to his deathbed. But worry not, whomever that woman was will never lay another vile hand on you I swear it.” Ingrid pulled hard on the manacle, right as she felt a slap across her face. 

“I am going nowhere, especially not anywhere that my father resides, and you will think twice before insulting my partner! She helped me heal your head and I will not have you implying anything of the sort you are in my presence. Now lay back, quit making your condition worse, and by the goddess shut your damned mouth, before I grab a needle and thread and do it for you!” Flayn shouted, making Ingrid go still. She hadn’t in all her time in the same class as the young woman seen her act so authoritatively, and here she was quite literally striking her. What had these foul wretches done to Seteth’s sister?

“I believe that will be enough, Flayn.” Edelgard said from the doorway, Catherine to her left while Mercedes stood to her right. Flayn nodded, storming from the room and leaving Ingrid alone with the Emperor and her protector, as Mercedes followed close behind her. 

“Sweetheart, are you in here?” Mercedes asked as she finally caught up to Flayn in their shared dormitory. Flayn was laid on their bed, the large stuffed fish Mercedes had knit for her for their anniversary clutched in her arms as she sulked. The mountain of fluff that was her hair and the fish easily took up more than half of the bed, which wasn’t difficult considering that the fish was easily 4 feet long, and quite well-stuffed. Flayn refused to sleep without it ever since Mercedes had given it to her, which did make some problems with sleeping arrangements at night but, well, they’d made it work. 

Mercedes stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind her as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“My love, are you ok? Did she hurt you?” Mercedes asked, tentatively holding her hand out. Flayn looked at the hand and nodded, not in affirmation of Mercedes’ question, but in affirmation that it was ok for her to touch. Mercedes reached up, stroking Flayn’s hair as she grumbled into her massive aquatic friend. 

“She made no physical wounds, but her words made me want to inflict quite a few on some people.” Flayn said, squeezing the fish. 

“I saw that.” Mercedes said, scratching at Flayn’s scalp. 

“My love… you know that I’m not here on anything but my own choice, right?” Flayn asked, nervous in a way Mercedes hadn’t heard in quite some time. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” Mercedes said, leaning down and kissing Flayn’s forehead. “And you know the same is true of me, correct?” That made Flayn avert her eyes. 

“I… I try to.” Flayn said, shying away from Mercedes’ touch for a moment. “But sometimes it’s just… it’s hard to believe it. It’s easier to believe that I tricked you, or fooled you, and something is going to one day break a spell I never meant to cast.” 

“There’s no spell, my love. And no matter how hard it is for you to believe, I am here by nothing but my own choice, and I am not going anywhere.” Mercedes assured. 

“You don’t know that.” Flayn whimpered. 

“But I do. I have scorned and scoffed at the church, the archbishop, and the entirety of Fodlan with you by my side. What tiny bit more would it be to scoff at chance as well for the sake of my angel?” Mercedes saw Flayn giggle and roll her eyes at the nickname. 

“You are so very dramatic, my love. And I’ve told you, that nickname feels just a bit too on-the-nose.” 

“True. But it makes you smile whenever I call you it, so I will continue to do so.” Mercedes said resolutely. “Would you like some company, or is it Fish-Only-Time.” Flayn giggled and set the fish behind her, holding her arms out, which Mercedes eagerly laid down to fill. 

“I have told you, Lady Galatea, all I need from you is some scraplet of information on the church’s inner workings or plans for this war, and you will be able to walk free among the monastery grounds. I just need some small token to show good faith, and you will not have to be held by that manacle.” Edelgard repeated for what must have been the dozenth time. 

“And I told you, you heathenous whore, that I am not telling you a damned thing! I will never turn my back on Lady Rhea, nor the Holy Kingdom! We will win this war and drag your head through the streets of Enbarr on a pike for your sins!” Ingrid screamed through bared teeth. Edelgard sighed, having pulled a table between the two of them, sat on a chair while Ingrid remained firmly chained to her cot. Edelgard looked to Catherine, the question of ‘have you seen all you need to’ written plainly in her gaze. Catherine nodded, and Edelgard stood, letting Catherine take her seat as the knight slid her short sword from the sheath at her hip, setting it on the table and looking to Ingrid. “Oh, what? Does the traitor have something to say to me now, hmmm?” Ingrid jeered. “I have heard much from Lady Rhea of how much your ‘loss’ hurt her. To think that in fact you have been here, allowing yourself to become the feral attack bitch of lustful Adrestian whores. How far you’ve fallen, Lady Catherine. And I actually looked up to you once.” 

“Believe me, kid, I’d run myself through with a dull lance a hundred times before walking back to that monstrous archbishop.” Catherine said, not even flinching as Ingrid lunged for her, hand reaching out, for what that wasn’t exactly clear. But as the chain pulled taught, Catherine grabbed Ingrid by her wrist and pinned the limb down, her palm facing up as Catherine took her sword in the other hand. 

“I’ll gut you for your blasphemy you bitch!” Ingrid screamed. “I’ll show Lady Rhea I'm a better knight than you ever were!” 

“Call her Rhea.” Catherine’s voice was so dead and cold it sounded like ice, in a way Edelgard realized she hadn’t heard for some time. 

“What?” Ingrid asked, eyes shifting from rathful to confused. 

“Call her Rhea, just once, and I’ll unlock your cuff. You can walk out of here, free as a bird. No one will stop you, no one will even try. Just say her name.” Catherine said, and Edelgard could only watch, curious as she saw Catherine work. The protector had asked her for this opportunity when they walked here with Mercedes, something about ‘needing to know for certain’. But Edelgard was still unsure of where she was going with this. 

“Fine. Lady Rhea.” Ingrid said. 

“No. Not Lady Rhea. Rhea. Just her name. Say just her first name, and you can walk free.” 

“Lady Rhea. Now let me go!” Ingrid demanded. 

“You need to say the name. Just her name.” Catherine ordered, still clutching her wrist. 

“I did!” Ingrid shouted. 

“No, you didn’t! All you need to do is just say it once, no titles, no aggrandizement, no embellishment, and you can walk free! Walk right back to her!” 

“Lady Rhea! Lady Rhea! Lady Rhea!” Ingrid shouted, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and Edelgard realized that there were already two long trails cut in the dust on Catherine’s cheeks. 

“Just say her name once, Ingrid, and I’ll let you go. You can be free, just say it.” 

“I can’t!” Ingrid shouted, her body quaking as she sobbed into the wood of the table. “Lady Rhea… Lady Rhea… Lady Rhea…Why… why can’t I… ” Ingrid looked around, panic filling her eyes as she looked to Catherine. “What did you do to me?!” 

“Nothing.” Catherine said, Holding the shortsword in her hand. “I want you to focus on that feeling, that wall you’re bumping up against, that barrier you feel sick trying to push down. Hold onto it. I hope you know Ingrid, this is going to hurt, a lot, for a long, long time, but you’ll feel better when it is done.” Ingrid looked at her, confused, as Catherine dragged the dagger along the flat of her palm, making Ingrid scream in pain as blood poured down from her hand. Edelgard thought to step in, but a tense moment of quiet settled over the room, as Ingrid gained her breath back and Catherine let go of her wrist. Ingrid pulled the limb back to herself, looking up, her hair ragged, sweaty, and disheveled, her eyes wild. 

“What have you done to me?” Ingrid asked, less accusatory than it was afraid. 

“It depends.” Catherine said, sliding the shortsword back to her hip. “Say Rhea’s name.” 

“Lady…” Ingrid paused, and felt something shift, warp in her mind, and after some time, she started anew. “Her name is Rhea…” Ingrid said, as if her words might shatter glass holding her above a shark infested cavern, and she was already seeing cracks. 

Catherine collapsed in her chair, fear, anger, and certainty filling her eyes. 

“Edelgard, can I talk to you for a minute?” Catherine asked, the absence of her nickname showing the seriousness of the situation. Edelgard walked with her out to the hallway. 

“Wait!” Ingrid screamed, not quite sure why, but filled with an unending terror at what had just happened, what it meant. “Please… don’t leave.”

“Don’t worry, kid. I’ll be back in just a moment.” Catherine said, reaching out and resting a hand on Ingrid’s shoulder. A moment later, they were stood in the hall, Catherine collapsing back, leaning against the wall. 

“Did you find what you wanted?” Edelgard asked. 

“No. But I found what I expected.” Catherine said, dragging her hands down her face as she tried to find some kind of center. 

“So she…” Edelgard offered. 

“She is under Rhea’s control. Just like I was before everything in the catacombs.” Catherine said. “For the love of the goddess…”

“What do you want to do from here?” Edelgard asked. 

“I don’t know.” Catherine admitted. “I… I think I need to stay here. I’ll um… I’ll tell her everything I know. What she believes, that’s up to her.” Catherine said. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Edelgard asked, resting her hand on Catherine’s arm. “It’s the least I could do after…” She let the sentence hang. 

“No… I think I need to talk to her about this alone. But thanks, Princess... that means a lot.” 

“Of course, Catherine.” Edelgard said, bowing her head. “I’ll wait for you in my office, you can find me there whenever you’re done.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Princess.” 

“No, but I will do it nonetheless.” A part of her wanted to add ‘because I know you would do the same for me’, but again something stopped her.

It was some hours later, well past the hour when the rest of the Monastery had left to sleep, even after Hubert had retired with some cajoling from Edelgard, when Catherine finally walked into her office. Catherine looked as if she had gone through a year in a day, her gate a weak trudge and her eyes downcast as she collapsed into her chair, dragging her hands down her face as Edelgard moved to her. 

“How did it go?” Edelgard asked, stood hesitantly a few feet from her guard. 

“I think being fed to Seteth feet first would be less painful.” Catherine said, tossing a slip of paper onto the table in front of her. “Names of a few less-than-loyal nobles within the Empire.” 

“So she…” 

“She’s not on our side, but… she isn’t on theirs. Not anymore. I don’t know what she’s going to do, but she doesn’t want to go back there. I can’t blame her.” Catherine said, leaning forward and burying her head in her hands, a weak sob escaping her mouth. “She… she has gaps, chunks missing in her memory, attacks she said she was part of that I can’t find any record of. I… I couldn’t tell her. Not that. How the fuck am I supposed to break that to someone?” Catherine asked, and in an instant the hesitation Edelgard had felt approaching seemed to be outweighed as the Emperor moved to Catherine’s side, taking one hand in both of her’s. “Edelgard… she’s just a fucking kid. I… I can’t. I can’t tell her.” 

“Then don’t.” 

“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do? She was only picked because I fucking escaped.” Catherine muttered, too tired to really argue. 

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for a moment for what Rhea did to her, Catherine.” Edelgard said, somewhere between a reassurance and an order. “If you can’t tell her what you think those gaps mean then let her come to it on her own, and just be there for her when she needs you. You seem rather talented at that.” Edelgard cleared her throat, suddenly speaking a bit faster as if trying to change course. “You're not the one who hurt her, and I won’t hear anything to the contrary. You deserve to be free of that wretched woman, not to blame yourself for her actions.” Edelgard paused for a second, running her thumb along the edge of the ribbon on Catherine’s hand. “You deserve to be happy, Cat.” 

They stayed like that, hand held in hand, as Catherine tried to pull herself together. Catherine’s mind felt like a whipping storm, no one thought allowed to stay in place longer than a second before being whisked away and torn apart by the winds. After some time, it slowed to a breeze, and a while later it was to a relative calm. As everything processed through her mind, she couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me anything other than ‘Catherine’ or ‘you ass’. I’m not quite used to you calling me Cat.” Edelgard blushed. 

“I suppose it just slipped out without thought. If it’s so strange, I can simply refrain from using it again.” 

“No… no, Princess, I like it. I’ll be honest, it’s nice to see you relax the formality a little bit. Feels like getting to see more Edelgard, less Emperor Hresvelg.” Catherine admitted. 

“I… I will remember that. This may be a silly question, but how do you feel?”

“Exhausted. I’m just too fucking tired to feel much of anything else right now. It’s like my entire body was filled with sand.”

“Should you go to bed then?” Edelgard asked, concerned as she began to see just how much Catherine’s body showed signs of her exhaustion. Her shoulders were sagged, her eyes half-lidded, everything about her screamed the need to rest. 

“No. I just, I don’t know. Can we just stay here for a while?” Catherine asked. 

“Cat… you look as if you’re going to fall over dead any moment now. You should sleep.” 

“I just don’t want to go back to Letty’s room. It just doesn’t feel right. Plus… I don’t want to be alone right now.” Catherine confessed. Edelgard chewed on her lip for a moment. 

“You don’t need to sleep there if you don’t want to.” Edelgard said, hesitating for a moment. “You also don’t have to sleep alone.” Catherine looked Edelgard in the eye, confused for a moment, before realizing what Edelgard was trying to say. 

“Are you sure?” Catherine asked. “You don’t need to do something just to make me feel better. If it’s not something you’re comfortable with, I don’t want you to feel like you need to. You deserve to feel safe.” 

“And when I’m with you, I do.” Edelgard said. “I want you to feel the same. Please, don’t think i’m ordering you to say yes. If you don’t want to, I absolutely understand, but… the offer is there.” 

“I… I would like that, but…” Edelgard looked at Catherine, concern apparent. “I, Edelgard, I can’t be a replacement for Byleth. I… I won’t be a replacement for Byleth.” 

“You aren’t, Catherine.” 

“Promise?” 

“On my life.”   
“Well, who am I to argue with that.” Catherine said, cracking a smile as she saw one grow on Edelgard as well. The two looked at each other, and finally something seemed to break. A dam run over, crumbling as it gave way just an inch, and a river began to flow for miles. Both of them leaned toward the other, Catherine’s un-occupied hand moving to Edelgard’s cheek as Edelgard held the other hand like an iron vice. The moment their lips connected, both hesitated for a fraction of a second, waiting for the other to pull away if they needed to. Neither did, and so they pressed forward. 

The kiss wasn’t hungry and desperate, but more of something that was exactly what it needed to be, a sign of trust and care and compassion, a step forward taken together knowingly and with nothing but overt desire to do so. At the same time, it was a single step, and one neither was quite ready to move past. There was time for the rest, but at that moment, they were overjoyed with the simple knowledge that they were there, together, open and honest with each other and themselves. 

They pulled apart, not gasping for breath but simply letting their lips part, Edelgard letting her forehead press against Catherine’s as they stayed together. 

“You know people will probably start talking.” Catherine said. 

“Let them. Hubert will make short work of them.” 

“That’s assuming he doesn’t roast me like a chicken first.” Edelgard giggled, running her thumb along Catherine’s knuckles. 

“Don’t worry.” Edelgard said, moving to stand up, helping Catherine up with her. “I’ll protect you from Hubert.” 

“I feel like that’s a little backwards, given my job and all.” Catherine said as the two began walking toward the dormitories. 

“Perhaps, but I feel as if that will be the least peculiar thing about our relationship.” Edelgard said, taking Catherine’s hand in her own as they reached the intersection of paths that they had always diverged at, one moving toward the stairwell while the other went toward the Arena. Catherine let herself be guided up the stairs behind Edelgard, down the hall and to her door. Edelgard opened it, turning and facing Catherine. “You’re sure this is ok?” 

“As long as you are.” Catherine said, and a moment later they closed the door, just as the night before had gone, undoing their various armor and adornments, before eventually the time came for them both to crawl into bed. It was awkward, as they tried to find a way to lay beside each other. The night before had been simple circumstance, no thought or planning, just collapsing from exhaustion both physical and emotional, but now that they had time to think, they had time to over-think. 

But, eventually they found a position that worked, both on their sides as Edelgard’s head rested on a pillow atop Catherine’s right arm, the left draped tentatively over Edelgard’s midsection, growing more firm as Catherine felt Edelgard seem to press back against her in reassurance. 

“Goodnight, Cat.” Edelgard said, voice already groggy with sleep. 

“Goodnight, Princess.” 

Both of them slept, soundly and undisturbed, throughout the night. That next morning, they went through each of their normal morning routines, but they took extra time to ensure both of their hands were wrapped in the same red ribbon as the day before, with just as much care. Over the time to come, that would become something of a morning ritual for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah! Tbh I had another timeskip planned between now and when these two chucklefucks would get together, but in all honesty this just kinda felt right as I was writing it after proofreading, and I hope y'all liked the way this went. Now, I gotta go do some real-world shit, so I wish you all the best! Have a great week! 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage


	35. Chapter 31: Sometimes things can just be simple. Part 2: Sometimes tho, shit just kinda gets fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Fair warning, this weeks update includes an allusion to Ingrid's abuse by Rhea. It's nothing more in-detail than we've seen with Catherine, but always wanna give some heads up. 
> 
> No real notes today. Enjoy! 
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage

Byleth kneeled in the center of the Imperial Palace, the pale form of her fallen Edelgard before her, head in her lap, staring up at her with dead, lifeless eyes. She felt the tears trickle down her cheeks, droplets falling onto the face of the dead woman, the gaping wound in her chest from Dimitri’s lance still ebbing blood out onto the ground around Byleth’s knees. 

She had tried so hard, fought for so long, and yet again this time her trial was met with failure. In honesty, this time things were flowing so much faster, so much sharper than they had before. Byleth wondered if that was something to do with whatever was forcing her to see this all play out, or something to do more with herself. Her willpower simply starting to crumble, and her mind with it. 

She doubted there was any part of her not breaking at this point. She could feel it, the cracks winding their way through the outer layers of her mind, creeping deeper and deeper with every student she slaughtered. Every single time she massacred the pupil’s she loved, not just Edelgard, but all of them which had grown to be her family in the aftermath of such a cruel life. She felt the world starting to fall away, only occasionally being able to break through to the surface for a breath of air. One thing, however, seemed to have finally dawned on this putrid, twisted version of her. 

“I’m sorry, El.” Byleth heard herself sob. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I thought I could protect you, that I could help you, that I could put myself in the lead of the forces determined to destroy you, and steer us toward peace. I just want peace...peace, and you, and Catherine… I’m sorry I took so long to realize it.” 

Byleth cackled viciously within the confines of her own mind, gnashing her teeth which didn’t exist, straining against binds that didn’t hold her. She was stuck, a perpetual prisoner, and yet again she was forced to watch her beloveds’ deaths. Catherine had fallen at the hands of Ladislava, struck down and slaughtered before Byleth could get close enough to save her. By the time she was there, her powers were so drained she couldn’t rescue her without risking the inability to reverse time where she to fail again. Which she did. 

Reality shattered, and Byleth felt time slip around her. 

And, like that, the sixth circle of hell was entered. 

Edelgard’s office was simply abuz with life as Manuela stood beside the Emperor herself, Linhardt rifling around his various books on the distant table as Lysithea sat, bored out of her mind in the chair Catherine usually occupied. 

“We’ve had no luck in finding anything able to fully purge your blood of the crests. I’ve found several things that weaken them, powderized silver, infinitesimal doses of poisonous herbs that might have been ‘nationalized’ from Hubert’s personal supply.” Linhardt mumbled as her glanced through his notes. 

“I’ll have you know he has tried to convince me six times in the past month to put out a national manhunt for the ‘underhanded scoundrel’ raiding his poison collection.” Edelgard interrupted. 

“Well tell him not to store them in a bright purple chest on his desk marked with a skull and crossbones if he doesn’t wish for them to be stolen. At that point he is just begging for it.” Linhardt tried to say in his defense. 

“I’ve tried to tell him, but he insists on keeping it. Apparently it was a gift from Ferdinand for their anniversary.” Edelgard replied, a ribbon-wrapped hand under her chin, supporting her head as Manuela drew her blood. 

“Well, beyond any of that, it doesn’t exactly sound like any of those options are things I’d prefer to ingest.” Lysithea said. 

“Oh, absolutely not. They’d almost assuredly kill you where you stood. Hubert’s nightshade extract is some of the most concentrated I have ever seen.” Linhardt noted. 

“That would be thanks to Bernadetta and Catherine. I’m unsure if they should be thanked or scolded for that.” Edelgard muttered. 

“Speaking of Catherine, where is your oh-so-loyal protector?” Edelgard rolled her eyes as she tried to undercut Lysithea’s prying. 

“She is off, attending to her garden most likely. She does have a life outside of her work, you are aware?” 

“Could have fooled me.” Lysithea taunted, a stern look from Manuela quieting her. 

“You’ll have to tell her and Hubert eventually, dear. You know that don’t you?” Manuela asked, and a look of guilt seemed to streak across Edelgard’s face.

“I’m aware… but still, I would rather not worry them. I worry they’d both only grow more protective.” Edelgard lied through her teeth. 

“I don’t think that is possible, but I mean, ok I guess.” Lysithea saw another look of ‘drop it’ from Manuela, and seemed to revel in defiance of it like a bullheaded teenager, which of course, she was. 

“Ok, side conversations aside.” Linhardt interjected, yawning and facing the two women. “We’ll take this latest set of samples and go back to the drawing board for ideas on new treatments or combinations thereof to see if there's another route we’re missing.” 

“Linhardt, this is the third set of ‘samples’ you’ve drawn in 2 months. I don’t want this to take up too much of your time or energy if it can be better devoted to the war. If we’re making no progress, perhaps it is better to set it aside until the war is won and you can focus on it exclusively.” 

“Speak for yourself. If anything I want him working double time on this.” Lysithea said, crossing her arms. She understood how much this war meant to Edelgard, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a bit annoyed by the clawing around for an excuse to drop the tests. 

“Edelgard this matter will consume my mind regardless of if it is my sole focus or one of many, so I’d highly suggest you cooperate with Lady Manuela’s sample collection, the both of you, and drop all pretense of my abandoning this venture or I shall have Caspar hold you upside down by your ankles and shake a sample out of the both of you.” Linhardt said, snapping the book in his hand shut with the most enthusiasm any of them had ever seen in Linhardt, which still meant it was barely above a sleepwalking sloth. Linhardt marched over to Edelgard, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I will not sit idle while my friends and comrades die. If there is anything I can do to stop this, I will find it. Do not doubt Manuela’s capabilities, nor my own, Edelgard, as none of us have ever doubted you or your leadership.” 

The Cathedral that had once been the brilliant core of Garreg Mach Monestary now sat in abandoned wreckage as Ingrid knelt at the base of the altar to the goddess, what little was still present of it. She had spent the majority of the last two months since her capture by the Black Eagles there praying for guidance and for the path ahead of her to be made more clear. What exactly the Eagles had taken her as, however, was still up for debate even for her. 

Part of her thought herself a prisoner, a loyal knight captured and held against her will by the savage sinners she had marched into war against alongside her proud king, now forced to bide her time until she could escape and return to his side, and with that the side of her Archbishop. But whenever that side spoke up, she felt her stomach churn to the point of emesis. 

Simple thought of the Archbishop, ‘Rhea’ as Ingrid kept needing to be reminded to call her, filled her with none of the hope or tranquility it had before her time here in the Monastery. Now, it filled her with a twisting, churning fear, underlined even my by something Ingrid felt swimming just out of sight beneath her feet, like a child stood on a crumbling dock above shark infested water, the ever-present feeling of something that she knew not, but was certain she didn’t ever want to see it pulled up to the light. 

That part of her, the part that stirred and filled her with fear at the mention of Rhea, was the part that made her hesitant to call herself a prisoner here. She refused to fight for the side of the Black Eagles. She couldn’t stand the thought of joining Adrestia and all its twisted sodimous filth, but at the same time she had heard Catherine’s tale, heard some of the things done under the same command that had filled her with terror that night in the medical wing. 

While she knew the guards had stopped watching her, and thus she had more than enough opportunity to find her way out and back to Faergus, she refused to do so. She couldn’t go back there. Just like she couldn’t plunge into the depths of her mind where that something swam beneath her fear. She was paralyzed; unwilling to move forward, and yet unable to go back. 

“Would you mind some company in your prayer, Ingrid?” Mercedes asked, and Ingrid looked over her shoulder to see her standing in her gown, boots, and all at the foot of the stairs leading up to Ingrid and the altar. 

“There is nothing I can do to stop you.” Ingrid said, snapping back and shutting her eyes, returning to her prayer. 

“That is true, but that is not what I asked.” Mercedes said, sauntering up the steps of the Cathedral. “Would you be bothered if I joined you in prayer?” 

“Yes. I would be, as it seems more than a bit hypocritical of you. I worry the goddess may mistake me for something like your treasonous lot were I to pray beside you.” Ingrid said, eyes still closed. Something in her pushed the words out without her even having to think. It was Mercedes’ chuckle that made Ingrid’s eyes shoot open, confused. “Has something I said amused you?” 

“No, but I find the whole situation a bit humorous. Or perhaps familiar is a more appropriate word.” Mercedes said, kneeling down, taking a place not too close to Ingrid, but still in front of the Altar. “Might I ask what you find so hypocritical in my prayer? I am afraid I do not see it.” 

“Then you must intentionally be blind to it. So my telling you will do little good.” 

“Humor me, then, brave sir knight.” Mercedes said, resting her hands in her lap. Ingrid sighed, realizing she wasn’t going to escape this conversation. 

“I am no knight, Mercedes. I have broken my word to my king, and disgraced him and the church by allowing myself to be captured. I would not besmirch that title by claiming it of myself.”

“It is a title you nevertheless earned, Ingrid. I find it hurtful that you, someone I once held as such a close friend and classmate, have taken such an unkind disposition toward me.” 

“And I find it hypocritical for you to come here, kneel at the altar and give praise of the goddess, meanwhile fighting alongside the heathonous filth of Adrestia that seeks the slaughter of the entirety of the church and everything it stands for.” Ingrid spat. 

“I see.” Mercedes said, looking away from Ingrid as she gazed up to the altar. 

“You ‘see’? Is that all you have to say?” 

“No, but I wish to try and be more… even headed in my response to your point of view than my partner was.” 

“Your ‘partner’?” Ingrid asked. 

“Yes. Flayn. She told me all about your conversation leading up to her smacking you across the face and storming away.” Mercedes said, chuckling.

“Ah, so that is what you call Lady Flayn then.” Ingrid said, disdain evident in her voice. 

“Of course. What else would I call her? She is not my wife yet, and girlfriend is such an immature term for love. Partnership marks it as what it is, cooperation, companionship. I find the term quite fitting.” Mercedes’ pride as she spoke only seemed to drive something in Ingrid even more deeply into her rage. 

“An awful lot of sweet language and flowery words to describe something so blasphemous. And you wonder why I called you a hypocrite.” 

“No, I figured I knew from the start, but I wanted to give you a chance to prove me wrong. Sadly, I was not so lucky. I will not lie, I am far less sympathetic to you now then I was when Flayn explained everything. At least then you had a recent headwound I could blame your bullshit on.” Mercedes said. “To put it bluntly, Ingrid, the church of Seiros knows nothing of love, and if my love for Flayn keeps me forever marked a damned soul in the eye of the goddess then I would sooner spit in that very eye than kneel and beg her forgiveness, and I’d advise you watch your tongue closely. I have lived a long life with people like you in it, my skin is thick, but I will not hesitate to strike you far worse then my love did if you say a word in insult to her.” Ingrid could only scoff. 

“Love… again you use that word for nothing but temptation of flesh, nothing but sin. And to so openly admit willingness to cast the goddess aside, I must wonder how she gives you any blessing for your magic.” 

“Well clearly she has. Were it not for myslef, Manuela, and Flayn, all three of us of that same ‘lustful persuasion’ you seem so spiteful of, I’m afraid you might still be unconscious in the medical wing after the wound you took. A blunt strike to the base of the skull does awful things to a body.” Mercedes seemed to boast. 

“Pride, atop lust? Sin after sin after sin, and yet you wonder why I called you a hypocrite.” Ingrid lamented. “I know not how healers are trained, nor how you were raised, but I was taught well how to fight temptation and hold myself to the standard of a servant of the goddess. Clearly you were not blessed with the same lessons.” 

“No, I was. I remember well the teachings of the churches in Faergus when I was a child as well as the comments from the various townfolk in the communities I saw. I headed it so dutifully in youth, but then again we all make mistakes in our youth.” Mercedes grew an intrigued grin as she pondered over what Ingrid had said. In a way, it was as if talking to herself years prior, when those ‘teachings’ had been more reflex than true belief. She wondered if perhaps there was some substance to that thought. “But, you seem to speak so well of knowing how to fight temptation, I must wonder if you feel so wrathful for the fact that I am merely living a life you wish could be your own.” Mercedes tested the thickness of the ice of Ingrid’s ‘holy determination’, and as she expected it seemed surface level at best, and seemed to shatter under even the slightest weight. 

“Do not even kid about such foolish things.” Ingrid shouted, leaping to her feet. “You are a fool to think I hold anything for you but pity.” Ingrid added, and yet Mercedes seemed unfazed. There was a heat burning behind Ingrid’s eyes, one that the defiant knight was certainly trying to convince herself belonged to her own rage. But Mercedes, again, saw familiarity in the glare back at her. 

“You speak so certainly, but your words quake with fear.” Mercedes said, not even looking at Ingrid. 

“Be quiet! You know nothing of me, and your prattling on is like knives dragged down a chalkboard.” Ingrid demanded, yet still Mercedes didn’t seem to flinch. 

“I must wonder, Ingrid, if you were really so certain would such a modest suggestion drive you to such a reaction? There is no shame in it, Ingrid. If it upsets you so, perhaps you ought to discuss it, talk about what you’re feeling. I can listen, if you want, or perhaps go fetch Manuela?” Mercedes asked, looking up with something akin to a knowing kindness, as she offered her hand. She knew what Ingrid was going through, she had gone through it herself before coming to the Monastery, and she thought perhaps tearing at that certainty might open her up to talking about her feelings, but Ingrid only slapped her hand away. 

“S… stay away!” Ingrid yelled, backing away, fear and despair in her eyes in equal measure. “I… I am nothing of the sort! There is nothing to discuss!” Ingrid shouted again, not quite to Mercedes, her voice dragging down into more disconnected reassurance. “ I’m… i’m not like that… I don’t want that… I had been tempted, but I didn't want that… I didn’t want it… not her…” All the while, she could feel that dread swimming beneath her moving at a breakneck pace to the surface, even as she did everything in her power to push it back down. She caught flashes of it, no matter how hard she tried to keep it away. 

“So, miss Ingrid.” The Archbishop had said-

Ingrid pushed the memory down, but more and more flooded in, and she was left, sobbing til her lungs felt ready to shrivel up and die, and she wanted to do much of the same. 

“Oh goddess, Ingrid, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… I thought…” Mercedes reached out to try and help her, but Ingrid slapped the hand away again. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME! I WILL NEVER BE LIKE YOU! I will never want that! I didn’t want that! I didn’t deserve punishment for a sin I never committed! Just stay away!” Ingrid wailed to a woman who wasn’t there, her voice making the woman who as shrink back. Had she a blade on her, Ingrid would have drawn it long ago. Not to protect herself from Mercedes, but from the ghosts that were dancing in her mind, specters of a person she couldn’t seem to believe she had once been. 

“Ingrid, please, let me help you. I’m sorry I pushed to far.” Mercedes tried once again, but Ingrid fled from the room, tears streaking down her cheeks as she sped down the bridge and past the Administrative Building, her feet clawing at cobblestone caster then she could think of where to go. 

“So, miss Ingrid.” The Archbishop had said, that late evening when she had been called into the interim audience chamber in the castle of Firdhiad. “I have been told that you’re in pursuit of a knighthood, wishing to serve your king and goddess.” 

“Yes, Lady Rhea! I have always wished to be a knight.” Ingrid had said so proudly. Rhea walked around her, seeming to size her up. 

“That is quite some energy, miss Galatea. I’m glad to see you’re excited about the idea. You see, I have recently lost a very dear knight to me, and as such I am in need of a… replacement, for her role in my command.” That had been the point Ingrid could remember Rhea’s finger slowly dragging it’s way up her spine. “But first, I really must ask about some… wandering glances I’ve heard whispers of from the women amongst your unit. The goddess frowns on those who indulge in temptation without approval, my dear girl. But I know of ways to treat a soul, to make it pure enough to earn a knighthood. Pure enough to keep it.” 

Soon enough, she found herself as far from the Cathedral as she could have possibly gotten, standing at the entrance of the dormitories that was once reserved for the noble student. But there were too many people, too much noise, too many pitiful glances and worried looks. She needed to escape. 

The doors to the greenhouse were ajar, she could hide there, find some peace and then go to her dorm and try and forget the entire awful day. So she moved to do just that. The doors slammed behind her, as she quickly latched it behind her. 

“Caspar you better not have locked me in the fucking greenhouse again! I swear I’m going to… oh…Shit.” Catherine said, looking at the disheveled knight standing in the doorway. She discarded the shovel in her hands, having more than one unpleasant experience with mixing shovels and emotionally tense moments. “Kid are you ok?” Catherine asked, walking over to her. 

“No I’m not ok you dumb bastard!” Ingrid bellowed, collapsing back against the door, burying her head in her hands as she slid down the wood. 

“Oh… oh no, kid.” Catherine began, kneeling down as she started to piece together what she was pretty well certain was happening. “Listen, I know it hurts, but talk to me. What is going on? I can try and help.”

“How? How is anything supposed to help me?” Ingrid sobbed, clutching herself in a hug. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. Nothing makes sense, nothing feels right. It all just feels gross and foreign and disgusting. Including me.” 

“I know, hun. I know it hurts. But sometimes it just can’t be avoided. You’re going to hate it, but I promise it will only hurt more if you push it down and try to forget.” Catherine prayed that, if nothing else, Ingrid could learn from her failures. 

“I… she said I wasn’t pure enough. That if I wanted to be a knight I needed to be, I don’t know… cleansed? I… There were soldiers among the rank and file… I didn’t mean to stare.I knew I shouldn’t have thought about my teammates like I did. I couldn’t help it. I let lust tempt me and… I should have known better. The goddess punishes sinners. ” 

“Fuck.” Catherine muttered under her breath. She thought she had had to go through a lot after the war had broken out, but at least she’d been proud of who she was when everything had happened, Ingrid was stuck trying to process not just Rhea, but all of Faergus’s bullshit all at once. “Kid, I know this is going to be hard to hear, but believe me when I say coming to terms with this will be the best thing you can do for yourself right now. Are you ready?” Ingrid nodded. “Just because you like women does not mean that she had any right to do that shit to you. You do not exist to be punished for that, let alone with being taken advantage of. Whatever excuses she comes up with, it is only, and will only ever be her fault. Never yours.” 

“I don’t ‘like’ women! I… I didn’t… I don’t like… I… I can’t. I can’t be like that. I’m a knight… I spent my whole life wanting to be a warrior for the goddess. How am I meant to do that when I’m… tainted?” 

“Ingrid, you are not tainted. You’re someone who has had to go through something no person should ever have to live through.” Catherine paused, rolling her sleeve up to examine the scar on her forearm from the short sword that now sat on her hip. “We aren’t broken, or tainted, or used up for what we’ve had to live through. Not that that makes this any easier, but please just know that it isn’t your fault, and that whether or not you like women, that doesn’t and never did give Rhea the right to abuse you.” Catherine muttered. 

“W… we?” Ingrid looked up at her, the rest of her question failing at her lips. Catherine could only nod. 

“...I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t know how. But I spent years being her… plaything before I finally managed to escape. Even then, I couldn’t have done it without the people who cared about me. If I hadn’t had Letty and Princess… this isn’t something you can do alone, Ingrid. So please, know that you don’t have to. I can’t say I know how to make it all feel better… but I do know what won’t. And that’s trying to run from it.” 

“I… can you stay?” Ingrid asked. Catherine just nodded. They didn’t move any closer, and not much else was said. They just sat there, leaned against the door for over an hour as Ingrid tried to let herself release without letting her emotions overwhelm her to bursting. 

Inessa was cooking away at a small wood stove in the corner of a room in the old barracks as Shamir and Sylvia sat at the small table a matter of feet away. While Inessa was cooking, Shamir simply sipped from a glass of water as she looked around the room. 

One of the more surprising things Shamir had found out about when she’d joined the group in the Monastery was the fact that the barracks had been converted into housing for a not insignificant amount of displaced civilians. Of course, in retrospect it made sense. The barracks had belonged to the Knights of Seiros, serving the function of containing the entirety of the church’s vast military power into a single location. With the Adrestian military mostly dispersed along the front lines, and only a basic group of defensive units stationed here at any one time, there was quite a bit of space left open. It had struck her as a rather considerate choice to be made by a nation she had spent the past two years being told was consistent solely of violent monsters.

It wasn’t that she ever really believed it. She’d seen well enough how leaders in Fodlan could demonize and dehumanize an entire nation for their own goals. She’d seen the bloodshed that followed when those dehumanized became the defeated. That was another thing that struck her about her time in Adrestia thus far. There was very little of the wanton war time jingoism she had seen in Faergus. There were no posters depicting the enemy leader as a feral monster tearing apart an innocent child, nor of the opponent’s head atop a monstrous octopus wrapping its limbs around the earth. The posters and newspapers instead were full of images of peasant farmers raising blades, a map of adrestia behind them with the words ‘Equality, Liberation, Brotherhood’ written in bright golden ink. One poster that she’d seen plastered to a wall in the entryway depicted Dimitri and Edelgard side by side, neither caricatured or bismerched, but beneath Edelgard were things like “Ending of the crest system, freedom for the people of Fodlan” and Dimitri stood atop words of ‘tradition, crest slavery’.

There was something shocking to Shamir in seeing a nation mark their enemies not as inhuman beasts, but as merely an opponent of ideals. Unlike Faergus, no child enlisted because he was convinced it was his goddess-given duty to slaughter the vile Adrestian scourge, but because they knew under Adrestia they had hope of escaping the toil and poverty their families likely had remained in for generations. 

Of course, she didn’t really care about that when she had joined. Gold was gold, and she went wherever she could get it. It just was surprising to her, was all. Nothing more, nothing less. She wasn’t stupid enough to allow herself to actually believe any of the slogans, nor in any of the people who followed them. She’d been down that road, and it had gotten her precisely nowhere worth being.

She smiled as she saw Sylvia sleeping with her head on her crossed arms on the countertop. As she saw something out of the corner of her eye, poking the young girl in her side, making her shoot up in her chair as a plate was set in front of her. Soon enough, another plate was set in front of Shamir. 

“Thank you for the food, Inessa.” Shamir said with a curt nod.

“It’s the least I could do. Thank you so much for the eggs, Shamir.” Inessa said, digging into her own plate of eggs and hashbrowns. 

“It’s nothing. Really. I just find them out hunting, and the kitchen already has a plentiful supply of them. With the piglet here, I figure you can use all the help you can get keeping her fed.” Shamir said. 

“Hey!” Sylvia whined. 

“Sylvia eat your food before it gets cold.” Inessa said, wiping some yolk from the little girl’s cheek as she turned back to Shamir. “So, how are things with the Eagles?” 

“As awkward as they ever were.” Shamir popped a bite of egg into her mouth as she finished muttering her reply. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is it…” 

“The whole ‘former enemy soldier’ thing?” Shamir offered, the slightest lilt of her cheek upward making Inessa think she meant it as a joke. “No, it’s not that. They all seem pretty versed at that sort of thing. It’s more of the fact that I’m just new. They trust me, as much as they can, they just don’t know me.” 

“Maybe if you tried talking more! You’re really stonic sometimes.” Sylvia said through a mouthful of eggs. 

“Sylvia, manners! Finish what is in your mouth before you speak.” Inessa corrected. Sylvia harrumphed, crossing her arms as she chomped the last of the food in her mouth. 

“Also, I think you mean stoic.” Shamir said, nudging Sylvia with her elbow. “And don’t go pouting. Your mom’s right. Manners are important if you’re going to be a civilized member of society.” 

“But I don’t wanna! Why can’t I be like you, Shamer?” 

“Sylvia!” Inessa gasped, only to see Shamir chuckle and tussle Sylvia’s somehow-already-dirty hair. 

“Yeah? You wanna join me out in the big bad forest?” Sylvia nodded, smiling with her teeth covered in chunks of unswallowed egg, making Shamir chuckle even more. “Maybe someday, if your mama says so.” Shamir looked over to Inessa, the closest thing to a grin on her face that she had ever seen on the woman. As Inessa smiled back at her something seemed to cloud over Shamir’s eyes, and she looked down at her breakfast. “I um, I need to go.” 

“Are you sure?” Inessa asked, allowing just a bit too much of the disappointment to show in her voice. 

‘Yes. I’m going to be late.” Shamir didn’t say what she was going to be late for as she slung her bag over her shoulder, the door closing before the breeze it let in could even be felt on Sylvia’s face. Inessa just sat, flabbergasted as to what had just happened. Shamir still confounded her, even after two months of almost daily visits. They’d go just like this. Shamir would arrive, knocking on their door right when Inessa was getting Sylvia dressed and fed for the morning, with an arm full of some sort of food usually, or even just to check in on them. Inessa would consider it some sort of courting ritual, not that she was certain if that was even common in Dagda, but every single time Inessa tried to inch closer to her, even if just toward being a friend, the woman would retreat, as if she were fleeing back into the woods she’d popped out of to save them. 

She wondered if perhaps it was just her. Inessa knew that given her scars, her being a mother, and what Shamir knew of her past, there likely wasn’t much interest of a romantic persuasion, but at the same time if Shamir was against any sort of friendship beyond polite conversation and the giving of food, what was her reason for continuing to visit? Was it pitty? 

Inessa enjoyed Shamir’s company, of course, but she had plenty of pitty from others in the Monastery. She was eternally thankful to the Eagles for helping her and Sylvia escape that hell they had lived in since Inessa was barely 15, but there was only so much pity a woman could take before her cup runneth over with it. 

But then again, Shamir made Sylvia laugh and smile and open up like Inessa had never seen another person do besides herself and the Eagles. If it helped her little girl open up and be happy, then Inessa could stomach Shamir’s pity. But she still couldn’t quite believe that was what it was. There was something in the way Shamir looked at her when she first opened the door each morning. Something that started as happy, to the point that even the stoic archer would smile just the smallest fraction, but just as it did when Inessa smiled moments ago, it would become fogged by something. Inessa had become skilled at reading people when she was chained. It was a useful skill in preserving one’s own skin. Knowing how one of the family members was feeling that day was dire in knowing who to pressure to get more food or clean clothes for Sylvia, who to fight back against, and a dozen other things. Shamir’s eyes fogged with guilt, as far as Inessa could read, but she was so uncertain of why that she almost wondered if she had begun to lose her knack for it over the past year and a half. 

Ferdinand stirred his cup of tea as he sat underneath the Gazebo,Dorothea to his right and Hubert to his left. Across the table from him also sat Manuela. 

“I must say, Hubert, I’m rather surprised to see you joining us today.” Manuela said, sipping from her own cup. “And not just because of your drink of choice.” 

“Very funny.” Hubert mused, sipping from his mug of black coffee, His own kettle sitting beside the much larger teapot everyone else had been drinking from. “Believe me, I’m not one to consider spending my time on gossip, but I’m rather certain had I not joined you all, Ferdinand would have had a fit.” 

“Not a fit, I just told you I wouldn’t cuddle you tonight.” Ferdinand said, a smug pride written in the smirk on his face. 

“Oh my, quite the big guns, Ferdi. What’s the occasion?” Dorothea asked. 

“Well, last night Hubert told me some rather intriguing peculiarities with a few recent charges he’s received from the inns the Emperor has been staying at during her recent travels. I thought it might pertain to something we’ve been… discussing, as of late.” Ferdinand mused, nudging Hubert’s arm gently. “Care to share, dear?” 

“Not in particular, no.” Hubert muttered into his mug of coffee, averting his gaze to avoid his partner’s rather infamous puppy dog eyes. 

“Oh, come now, Hubert. Get that stick out of your ass and spill some harmless gossip. Take that as a recommendation from a medical professional.” Manuela said. 

“Lady Casagranda, while I respect your medical expertise to the highest regard, I’d say this is rather the farthest possible thing from ‘professional’ as is humanly possible. And gossip is not harmless, especially not in times of war.” Hubert lamented, crossing his legs and drinking heavily from his mug. 

“Oh, quit moralizing, you pretentious little twig and spill it.” Hubert bristled at Dorothea’s demands. 

“Excuse me?!” Hubert demanded.

“I said talk!” 

“Fine, damnit. But this does not leave this table. If it does, I will handily assure that those responsible are dealt with.” Hubert said, pointing to Dorothea and Manuela. Ferdinand patted his partner on the shoulder. 

“Yes yes, dear. You’re very intimidating and we all fear you very much. Now go on!” Ferdinand implored, making Hubert grumble under his breath before beginning. 

“It is nothing of any import. Just a few strange misfilings on the bills for the most recent inn stays. There, for some reason, was only ever charges for single-bed rooms. I simply think a few too many drinks for the innkeep are too blame, but it is rather clear Ferdinand disagrees.”

“I knew it!” Dorothea slammed her fist on the table, making the other three attendee’s glasses shake. “I knew those two had been acting strangely lately!” 

“I mean, I don’t quite think they’re trying to hide it. They’re not boasting, but I imagine if they were trying to hide something like that they’d be subtler about it.” Manuela’s musings seemed to have a similar effect on Dorothea to an adult telling a child Santa wasn’t real. 

“You’d be surprised. For all her record of managing to hide her plots from us when we were in the academy together, I find myself often being the voice of tact and restraint during planning meetings. The Emperor, for all her worth, is surprisingly straightforward.” Ferdinand mused. 

“I’d wager that’s about the only thing straight about the woman. Considering we now know of two women she’s claimed for her own, her ‘type’ seems rather exemplary of that same attitude.” Manuela muttered into her mug. 

“I’m certain I have absolutely no idea what it is you tittering hens are meaning to imply with all this clucking about.” Hubert said, glaring at Manuela. 

“Oh sure you don’t, Hubie.” Dorothea drawled out the accusation, pouring herself a fresh cup. “Just like I’m certain you haven’t noticed how those little hand-wraps have continued to reappear every morning since those two returned from Enbarr.” 

“I fail to see how some idle fashion statement holds any sort of import to what you all are seeming to imply.” Hubert declared with a feigned certainty. 

“Oh? And how about the fact that there hasn’t been a morning in the past two months since they returned from Enbarr that they were seen apart?” Dorothea offered. 

“So Catherine is taking her role as royal protector seriously. I hardly see how that implies any sort of trist.” Hubert’s excuses were getting weaker by the second, and he knew it. 

“There’s more than just implications, my love.” Ferdinand interjected. “The reason this whole conversation came up was because a few weeks ago I went to find Edelgard for a meeting early one morning, and when she finally opened the door, Catherine was in the room with her, and there were quite a few straps improperly done on her armor. A bit rushed, if I might guess. Even the most loyal of knights wouldn’t have arrived early enough that morning to have realistically been waiting so long as to enter the room, and if they would I doubt it would be in that sort of slapdash state.” 

“Oh for Adrestia’s sake, I don’t even want to begin thinking about what you mean to imply, Ferdinand. That is simply preposterous and the three of you damn well know it.”

“As much as you may loath it, Hubie, there’s some precedent. Edelgard seems to have a taste for those that are… let’s just call it ‘dense of muscle and denser of skull’.” Dorothea offered. 

“And Cat matches that description to a T, believe me.” Manuela mused, a musing which Dorothea chose to ignore. Hubert seemed intent to continue his denial, but after a moment’s pause, he slumped in his chair and begrudgingly took another drink of his coffee. 

“Fine, dammit. You are right. There is no denying that Catherine and Edelgard seem… smitten with each other.” 

“Thank you captain curly cue, care to make another astute observation? Perhaps the color of the sky?” Dorothea asked, smiling as she saw Huebrt somehow glower even harder. 

“And for whatever you might say about the woman, Catherine seems to be a positive enough presence in Edelgard’s life. You were constantly lamenting how Edelgard barely ate before she took her role as her protector and began dragging her to meals.” Ferdinand tried to assure, both to assuage his partner’s concerns and to ensure Catherine did not wake up to nightshade in her morning porridge. 

“...While I loath the disrespect, I can not say it is ineffective. And I suppose Edelgard has seemed a bit less troubled, these past few weeks.” Hubert grumbled, pouring another cup of his bitter brew. 

“I’m more curious why they feel the need to hide it. I mean, I doubt they have some concern about us judging them. Almost the entirety of our strike force consists of people in ‘similar arrangements’.” Ferdinand pondered. 

“I mean they may not intentionally be hiding it. They’ve both been through quite a bit, perhaps it’s just that they aren’t making a show of it?” Manuela suggested. “Given how late they stay up working, it would be easy to believe there is just no one around to notice which rooms they end up in.” 

“Are you meaning to imply Catherine could actually be subtle? I think we’re talking about a different woman, if half the stories I’ve heard of her time in the Knights of Seiros are to be believed.” Hubert mused. 

“Quite a bit has changed since that time, if you couldn’t tell.” Dorothea said. 

“Yes but the woman is still a dithering jackass, no matter how loyal or helpful she may be.” Hubert added, sipping the last of his cup. 

“Agreed.” Manuela added. 

“Hmmmm, I like this gossipy side of you, Hubie. It’s nice to discuss things that don’t involve murder when you’re around.” 

“Oh make no mistake, if Catherine does a thing to hurt my sister, I will poison her within an inch of her life and abandon her in the nearest empty patch of forest for the wolves and hawks to pick clean.” Hubert clarified, withering a bit under the other three companion’s glances. “but… I will give her the benefit of the doubt, and trust her to be somewhat non-suicidal.” 

“Awwwwwe, Hubert, you really do care.” Manuela taunted, grinning as she took another drink from her cup.

“I feel as if you weren’t listening.” Hubert said pointedly. 

“No, we were. It’s just that from you, that sort of hesitation is akin to a declaration of adoption into the Vestra family.” Hubert rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, please. Goddess knows if I were to adopt anyone ‘into the Vestra family’ it’d be likely to be my worst enemy followed shortly by Rhea and then the devil himself.” Hubert griped, letting the conversation slip to more casual discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, I'm going to be straight up, due to school and work, my writing schedule has been FUCKED beyond imagination, so I'm really really strained for backlog. As such, I'm sadly gonna have to make next weeks update shorter, around 5-10 pages. I might be able to do more, but I'd rather say i'm not going to and do it anyway then risk just coming up short if i promise too much. I hope y'all enjoy this weeks update tho!!!
> 
> As always, follow me on Social Media as you please for more dumb gay shit from yours truly.  
> I’m on twitter @DresstheSage


	36. Chapter 32: Unholy Confessions, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mornin’, Princess.” Catherine mumbled through a thick fog of sleep as the Emperor adjusted to let her stretch, returning to their curled-up position once she had finished. “How’d you sleep?”
> 
> “Well, even in spite of your snoring.” Edelgard teased, leaning in and pressing her lips to Cat’s, pulling back before she continued. “Did you sleep well?” 
> 
> “Like a drunk boulder.” Catherine said, wiping sleep from her eyes.
> 
> “What is that even supposed to mean?” 
> 
> “Fuck if I know, Princess. You want a coherent answer from me? I’ve been awake for a whole thirty whole seconds.” Catherine yawned, allowing her eyes to flutter shut as she seemed to re-settle into the bed, pulling Edelgard closer to her again. “In fact…” 
> 
> “Oh no you don’t. It’s time to get up and you know it. We’ve already slept in plenty.” Edelgard said, sitting up and looking for her bag, hearing a half-hearted whine from Catherine until the knight finally moved to sit up as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up! Super early update this week, so I hope y'all enjoy! I ended up not having enough extra backlog to do a regular update, so it's about 11 pages. I'll have ot play by ear this next week about what kind of sized update we do, but we'll definitely have one, no doubt about it. Hope you all enjoy this little chunk, cus this chapter as a whole I have a feeling is going to make a loooot of y'all happy. *insert evil laughter*

Chapter 32

Byleth felt herself break the surface of the mad waters seeming more and more intent to drown her. As things began to come into focus around her, she realized that she’d lost quite some time in this gap. She was on her third time through with the Blue Lions, and it was already after the war had broken out, as best she could tell.

Wait, was it the third or the fourth? 

It had to be the third. She had only gone with the Deer three times, why would the Lions get any more attempts then them? It wouldn’t make sense. Wait, had it been three times with the Deer or four? Damnit, she couldn’t remember. But she was still relatively sure this was only her third time through. 

But then again why could she remember killing Randolph three times, and not 2? Dimitri was pressing the poor dumb bastard to the wall right at that moment, ranting and raving about eyes and corpses and assorted fucking insanity, so she hadn’t killed Randolph this time through yet, but she could remember doing it 3 times. 

Wait, no, it was the fourth. She could remember now. The first time through she hadn’t expected it, hadn’t known who the general and his sister were, but the second time was different. She couldn’t say why, but something about the battle had changed, even if she couldn’t remember for certain what that was.

Had that been the time through when Mercedes had died? Or was that the attempt after? 

No, it had been that time. It had to be. Dimitri had spent so much time lambasting the others in the class at agonizing over her loss that Byleth had the time to have Randolph taken as a prisoner before Dimitri could go through his mad ravings. She could remember that evening after he’d been captured with a rather shocking clerity. 

“Who’s there!?” Randolph had called as he stood in his cell in the catacombs of the Monastery. 

“Calm yourself, general. I only come bringing food.” Byleth could remember hearing the faintest glint of hope in her own voice as she’d spoken. Goddess, how much rarer that became with every passing attempt. 

“Hmph. ‘calm yourself’, easy to say when you’re not the one in the cage.” Randolph dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, blood still streaked down the sides of his face and chest, a few scabbing-over wounds from the battle above present where his armor didn’t cover. 

“I suppose that is true. But, believe me when I tell you the alternative was no better of an option. At least this way, you’re alive.” Byleth took a moment and slid the bowl between the bars, and Randolph didn’t even hesitate to take it up, devouring it in moments. 

“That is a fair point. I had not been aware that it was policy for the Kingdom to take prisoners now.’ 

“It isn’t.” 

“Ahhh, I see.” Randolph’s smirk was streaked with blood and bits of carrot from the soup. “So then I am not a hostage of the Kingdom… I’m a hostage of yours.” 

“I don’t think hostage is an appropriate term, I’d rather call you an ally. But yes, you are here under my protection.” 

“Well, call it whatever you like. I see little reason in it. I have nothing of value to the likes of you.” The bowl clattered, empty, on the ground as Randolph finished speaking, leaning against the wall as if reclining in a nice comfy chair. 

“You have plenty. I just want some information.” 

“Let me rephrase, then you thick headed theocratic cunt, I have nothing of any value that I'll ever give up to the likes of you.” Randolph clarified as he lashed out with his boot and kicked the bowl clattering through the bars. 

“I am not your enemy, General.” 

“Oh, you could wrap that lie in steel and call it a manure silo! You Faergan bastards have nothing but hate for Adrestia’s Emperor and our struggle for liberation.” 

“Quite the opposite, General. I find myself quite enamored with the Emperor. But, this war has to end. However, I continue to fail to see a path forward that doesn’t end with her death. I am hoping that a general such as yourself might be able to see something I can’t. Perhaps some way into the palace that could allow us to sneak in and end the battle before she can get herself killed.” Byleth offered the end up as if it was meant to be some sort of concession, and Randolph had looked to her as if she was daft. 

“I do, in fact.” He began, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, whispering as if he were a child telling her a secret. “It’s the path where the Emperor wins, and Fodlan can be truly free, you fucking creep. That’s the only path that the Emperor will ever allow to end without her death. You think after the torture your putrid fucking church has pushed on the people of this nation, after the damage the crest system has done to Fodlan and to her, she’d ever allow herself to be taken alive as your prisoner? Clearly, you don’t know the woman as well as you’d like to think.” 

“I’d ask you to watch yout tone with me, General, and to not make assumptions you hold no evidence for. Your stubbornness and bravado won’t save you here.” 

“And there it is! The attempts at ‘compassion’ fail to get you what you want, so you turn to vague threats, and I’m sure the more I tell you to go to hell where you belong, they’ll just get more and more overt. But listen close, Professor.” Byleth had watched herself stiffen in surprise. “That’s right, I know exactly who the hell you are. Let me be clear, whatever power you may have, I will never tell you anything that you could use to try and make the Emperor into whatever sick war-pet or officer’s wife you want her as. I’ll die before I let Adrestia fall, and have my Emperor or my sister fall under you monsters!” 

“You misunderstand me, General, I-“ 

“I don’t want to hear your simpering explanations, Faergan pig! Just go do me a favor and go die in a fucking hole where creatures like you belong.” Randolph shouted through the bars, tossing his helmet against the boundary of his confines. 

Byleth had watched herself move away from the cell, walking out of the chamber it was in as she was mumbling assurances to herself about how she would ‘show him that he simply misunderstood her goal’. She seemed so certain that he was wrong about her, but all Byleth could think was how happy she was that someone had finally said it when she wasn’t able to. \

But with all those muttered reassurances to herself, it had just made it that much more exhausting when she came to give him food the next day and found Dimitri standing over his corpse, blood splattered across the room as if it had been some sort of art display. 

Byleth couldn’t remember much of the rest of that attempt, or of the ones that followed it, for that matter. But, she saw her bury her blade in the pit of Randolph's stomach in the ‘present’ version of events as Dimitri screamed in his face, and after Dimitri finished his usual tirade against her, she saw time fade into the blackness of her mind until she felt the world shatter, and time seem to lurch around her again. Goddess, she didn’t even know what ring of hell it was this time. 

Hazy morning sunlight flitted lazily in through the blinds of the small in that Edelgard and Catherine had taken as their spot to rest for the night before, and as Edelgard felt something shift around her she began to stir awake, feeling a familiar bump in her pillow and weight around her side as she looked up to the sleeping face of Catherine. She laid there, curled up in her arms, one tucked under the pillows beneath her head while the other was draped over her midsection and back, hugging her close to Catherine’s chest even in her sleep. 

Edelgard smiled as she saw the light reflecting off of the golden strands of Catherine’s hair, which now hung just about past her shoulders after having started allowing it to grow in the early days of her job as bodyguard, just over a year ago now. 

Edelgard couldn’t believe it had really been so long already that Catherine had been her loyal protector, but to be certain, it was dawning on the end of the second year of the war for the liberation of Fodlan, and Catherine had been by her side throughout the entirety of the last half of it. Edelgard reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from Catherine’s face, and fought the urge to laugh as the small nose twitch that seemed to cause the larger woman. Edelgard traced her finger along Catherine’s sharp jaw, her eyes moving a bit farther down soft cheeks to even softer lips. The sight of her on early mornings like this always found a way to make Edelgard’s breath hitch in her throat. 

Something that struck Edelgard more and more as time went on was just how little things had really changed for them since their return from Enbarr some three months ago. Catherine was still ever-present at Edelgard’s side during the day, and while they made no attempts to hide their new positions in eachothers’ lives, or rather the new title those same positions now bore, they did not do much to flaunt it either. They would spend the days doing their usual routine, attending to the obligations of an Emperor in a time of war, as well as training and planning with the Black Eagles, but the long periods of time they spent just quietly sat in the office, attending to messages and paperwork were much less tense than they had been before. 

Catherine still badgered her to attend meals when she forgot, but the nights when she would simply bring her a plate from the kitchen now included a kiss on her forehead whenever she set the plate down. Their mornings had a pleasant beginning with little to no exception, because even on nights when one or both of them did struggle with some flashback of nightmare, they were able to wake up to a bed where someone they trusted was never far away. It was nice. 

Catherine yawned and Edelgard realized she had been staring at her for quite some time, lost in her own thoughts. Catherine began stretching out as her eyes dragged open.

“Mornin’, Princess.” Catherine mumbled through a thick fog of sleep as the Emperor adjusted to let her stretch, returning to their curled-up position once she had finished. “How’d you sleep?”

“Well, even in spite of your snoring.” Edelgard teased, leaning in and pressing her lips to Cat’s, pulling back before she continued. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Like a drunk boulder.” Catherine said, wiping sleep from her eyes.

“What is that even supposed to mean?” 

“Fuck if I know, Princess. You want a coherent answer from me? I’ve been awake for a whole thirty whole seconds.” Catherine yawned, allowing her eyes to flutter shut as she seemed to re-settle into the bed, pulling Edelgard closer to her again. “In fact…” 

“Oh no you don’t. It’s time to get up and you know it. We’ve already slept in plenty.” Edelgard said, sitting up and looking for her bag, hearing a half-hearted whine from Catherine until the knight finally moved to sit up as well. 

“Oh fine, guess I’ll just fuck off out of the nice warm bed then.” Catherine taunted, standing and walking over to her bag to dress for the day. A few weeks into their relationship, Catherine had stopped just wearing the linen pants and tunic from her uniform as nightclothes, and had begun simply wearing an undershirt and shorts to bed. Edelgard’s night clothes still remained majority nightgowns, but some days she would occasionally snag one of Catherine’s shirts to use instead. The night before had in fact been one such occasion, and Edelgard stood from the bed in an oversized shirt, stretching as she grabbed her own bag off of the floor. With the difference in their height, Catherine had loved teasing her that those shirts actually went lower than her nightgowns, but Edelgard knew that was utter nonsense. 

But she still never let Catherine measure to finally determine for certain one way or another. 

“Oh, don’t be melodramatic Cat. It’s not like you’ll be sleeping in some cold lonely bed this evening. But we need to hurry, and ensure we can make a plan with the rest of the strikeforce around Arundel and his little scheme.” Edelgard grumbled the last portion of her thoughts as she heard water pouring, likely from a canteen into a small bowl. Edelgard slowly drew her shirt up over her head, setting it on the bedside table as she pulled out clean underwear and a bra, looking over the bed as she saw Catherine already in her pants and a rather surprising lack of shirt, with an opened razor in hand and the lower half of her face smeared in thick shaving soap. However, what really caught Edelgard’s attention was how the knight was, rather obviously, staring as opposed to shaving. “Can I help you?” Edelgard asked, pulling a gown from her bag as she heard her partner chuckle. 

“Nope, I just figured it wasn’t smart to put a blade against my throat when I’m easily distracted and there’s a gorgeous woman barely dressed around, so I’m just appreciating the view. Well uh, if that’s ok, that is.” Catherine’s voice seemed to shift from confident taunting to unsure nerves at near record-setting speeds, and Edelgard pulled a pair of tights up one of her legs as she gave her best attempt at a reassuring smile. 

“I’d have told you if it wasn’t, Catherine.” Edelgard said without an once of doubt.  
“I hope so.” Catherine muttered, and as Edelgard pulled her dress on, she began working at shaving, dragging the blade of the straight razor along her skin with practiced ease.

While the two were rather comfortable with each other with regards to things like seeing each other undressed, that was largely a product of both necessity, and the experiences of combat, war and war accomodations rarely making the space for things like squeamishness around being undressed near your teammates. However, while even being barely clothed around each other was simple and comfortable for the both of them, they had had a conversation after a few nights of sharing a bed to ensure that they both knew where the other felt comfortable, and Catherine had said plainly that anything more directly physical was likely quite a while down the road. Edelgard had assured her that was fine, and in honesty had enjoyed the opportunity to take things slow, since they were not under anything like the same impending potential divergence of paths she and the Professor had been. 

Sex and that sort of thing would come whenever they both felt ready for it, and until then they were both more than happy where they were, partners, in all senses of the word. 

“So, what do you make of that invitation?” Catherine asked, finishing her shave and using the water in the bowl to finish cleaning her face before continuing to get ready.

“I told you as much as I think last night.” Edelgard said as she straightened the gown out, ensuring all the gold adornment was properly placed and secured on the bright red fabric. 

“No, last night you told me you think that Thales is, and i’ll quote you, ‘scum sucking mongrel’ and a ‘vapid little leach who belongs in the deepest bowels of hell if it weren’t already too good for him’. I want to know what you think he’s playing at.” Edelgard sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

“Why is it you can remember things like that, but always conveniently ‘forget’ that Ladislava hates it when you call her ‘ponytail’?” As Edelgard turned and looked to Catherine for her reply, she saw the blonde pulling her tunic over top of her athletic bra, smoothing it out and shooting a smug grin. 

“Because, it pisses you off when I call you on that shit, and you’re hot when you get pissed off.” Catherine said, ducking the bundled up shirt from the day before that Edelgard proceeded to chuck at her head. “Yeah, see, like that!” 

“Oh you are such a-” 

“Let me guess!” Catherine interrupted, stepping closer and smirking even wider. “You’re going to call me an ass, or a jackass, or a stubborn ass, or something like that, right?” 

“... You have no proof.” Edelgard said, crossing her arms. 

“And with a reply like that, I don’t need any.” Catherine leaned in, kissing Edelgard on the cheek. “Now for real, what do you think?” 

“I think it’s a power play. That’s all it can be.” 

“What kind of power play is throwing a ball in somebody’s honor? Seems like a weird way to go about it.” 

“Thales is in love with his mind games. He revels in toying with his victim’s and watching them fall apart on their own. This is no different.” Edelgard said, flinging the piece of paper over her shoulder, sending it flitting to the ground as she turned, facing away from Catherine. “Might you be able to help me fasten the back?” 

“Yeah, give me just a second.” Catherine said, fastening her boot in place as it was awkwardly set atop the bedframe before turning and starting to tie the laces of the corset that decorated the back of the dress, one of Edelgard’s hands holding one of the sides in place, the heart-shaped cut out making it awkward to the point of near impossibility to close alone. “So, let me see the brilliant plan here that I’m missing. Thales wants to watch you unravel, so what, he throws a dance in your honor? Gets a bunch of nobles around and rallies their support? I might not be the smartest bitch in the litter, but that still seems back-asswards to me.” 

“Think about the location, Cat. He is hosting it at Garreg Mach, in less than a week’s time no less, and he said not a word of it to us. It’s a show of power, and a challenge. He is begging us to tell him no, so that he might use it against us, and yet he is also telling us flat out that he knows we won’t. He then sends invitations to everyone but us, hoping that when the ball is brought up, I will seem like an incompetent fool for not knowing what is going on.” Edelgard explained, turning to Catherine and beginning to wrap her hands. 

“Ok, ok, that does make some more sense. So then the note about no weapons and no guards-” 

“It’s the same intention as he had when he took the role of royal guard away from my Father. He wants to make me feel weak, unprotected, and isolated.” 

“Well, we’re not going to let him do that, now are we?” Catherine said, taking the ribbon and wrapping Edelgard’s hands as she finished. 

“Oh goddess no. That bastard will drag me to a cold bloody grave before I let him play me so easily ever again.” Edelgard swapped one hand for the other with practiced ease. 

“Let’s try to avoid both of those options, if at all possible.” Catherine said as she began wrapping the limb. 

“I fully intend to, don’t you worry.” Edelgard smiled as Catherine finished her other hand, sliding her gauntlets into place and seeing Catherine do the same. 

“Yeah, I’m going to worry no matter what. It’s kind of my job, both as ‘the bodyguard’ and ‘the girlfriend’. But, have you got any ideas on how we’re going to beat him, or are we hoping Hubert has a plan here?” Catherine asked, slinging both of their bags over her shoulder. 

“I have some thoughts, but it would be best to speak to the entirety of the strike force, as we don’t know if it’s just mind games, or something more sinister at work. Now come along, we’ll need to move quickly if we want to reach home by noon.” Edelgard said as she walked out of the room. Catherine followed close behind. 

“You really think we’ll need the entire strike force? It is just a ball.” 

“Yes, and the last time he visited it was just for ‘a check in’ and you still ended up getting lit on fire and I ended up almost murdered later that night.” 

“You think he had something to do with that?” Catherine asked, throwing the bags into the carriage. 

“There are many secret paths in and out of Garreg Mach. Do you want to know what unites almost all of them, including the one we traced as the point of entry for that little squadron that attacked me?” 

“What?” 

“They have to be opened from the inside. So if it was not Thales, then we have even larger issues at play.” Edelgard said, sitting in her spot in the Carriage, Catherine taking the seat beside her. 

“Don’t go telling the whole Strike Force that, or else Ashe will have her bow trained on me every second of the next decade.” Catherine muttered. 

“That reminds me. We need to discuss your and Ashe’s relationship.” 

“Ok, please don’t say it like that. She’s not like some ex.” 

“Not that type of relationship you… jerk. You two were rather close, and I am growing more and more concerned as time drags on. She has shown little sign of adjusting to your presence in the Strike Force, and that little incident a few months ago with Shamir shows that that is dangerous. I think you should speak with her. If Thales does attempt something, I want to make sure the entirety of the Strike Force is a cohesive unit. Thales will find any weakness in a person and play it to his advantage. I don’t want such a glaring weakness left open.” Catherine sighed, running a hand through her hair as she watched the trees pass her by. “You know if you spoke to her, she would understand. Ashe is emotional, but she wouldn’t blame you for what happened. None of us do.” 

“I know… but I do.’ Catherine confessed. 

“Cat…” 

“No, Princess. Just leave it alone, please. I’ll talk to her. Just… let me think?” 

“Of course.” Edelgard said, reaching over and setting a hand on Catherine’s. “I will be there with you if you’d like me to.”

“I… Maybe.” 

“Hello, dear.” Mercedes greeted from her spot sat at Manuela’s desk, setting her pen aside as she saw Flayn saunter into the Medical Bay, her hair pulled back into a massive high-ponytail that hung down her back in a mess of green curls. Flayn walked up to the deck, and placed a kiss on Mercedes’ cheek. “How are you?” 

“Tired and missing you.” Flayn said leaning down and resting her elbows on the desk, propping her chin in her hands. “It’s barely dawn, Mercy, what in the world are you doing awake at this hour, let alone here?” 

“Oh, I told Manuela I would watch the Medical Bay this morning as a favor to her. She said something about an important obligation last night, so I offered to help and she told me she would pay me back by covering tonight for me.” Mercedes said with a grin. Flayn’s eyes lit up at the sound of actually getting an evening with Mercedes that didn’t include her hanging around on one of the cots. 

“Really?!” 

“Mhmmm.” Mercedes said, poking Flayn in the nose. “It was meant to be a surprise.” Flayn scrunched her nose, but she’d always been terrible at pretending to pout. It was just too hard not to smile around Mercy. 

“Well I’m sorry. I woke up this morning and you weren’t there, so I got worried...and cold...and lonely.” Flayn said, sitting up on the side of the desk. 

“Well, I’m sorry I had to sneak off. I wanted to let you sleep in. You’ve been pulling a lot of extra time between your training and helping around here, I thought you deserved some sleep.” Mercedes reached out, snaking her fingers between Flayn’s, taking her Partner’s hand and kissing it gently. 

“So, are there any plans for tonight then?” Flayn asked, and the the way she seemed to draw out the word ‘plans’ made Mercedes crack a wicked smile. 

“Oh now, someone is getting rather ahead of themselves.” 

“Maaaaybe.”

“Now now, I can’t spoil any other surprises I may have for you know, can I?” Mercedes asked, moving her hand down, ‘casually’ resting it on Flayn’s thigh, barely a few inches above her knee and holding back giggles as she saw Flayn’s face become roughly ten times as red as a tomato. Flayn was quick to taunt, but would become flustered at the slightest hint of response. “But, on a slightly less ‘fun’ note,” Mercedes said, pulling her hand away and looking back to papers in front of her. “I actually do have something I need to ask you. Since I have the evening free, I was wondering if you would like to spend some time tonight having dinner with my brother, Emil?” 

“Oh!” Flayn said, now going red for an entirely different reason. “Um, I… Well yeah I would be ok with that.” 

“Are you sure, sweetheart? If you aren’t comfortable with it, there’s nothing wrong with saying no.” 

“No, it’s not that I’m not comfortable. It’s just, well… Are you sure you want me to meet him?” 

“Of course, my love, why would I not?” Mercedes asked, worry evident as she saw Flayn bobbing her leg. 

“I just… I know how important family is to you, and I just don’t wanna mess it up.” 

“You won’t, my light.” Mercedes reassured. “I know Emil will love you, because I love you. I want him to meet you and see just how wonderful you are, and how happy you make me.” 

“Ok… If you’re sure.” 

“Absolutely positive.” 

“Then yes, I’d love to have dinner with your brother.” Mercedes absolutely beamed at her, and Flayn couldn’t help but bounce on her spot on the desk. Mercedes always had the sweetest smile. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. “What did you say his name was again?” 

“Oh! His name is Emil but he used to go by-”

“Excuse me.” A woman’s voice called from the entrance of the medical hall, cutting Mercedes off mid-explanation. “Might you be able to help us? We’re looking for a miss Bernadetta and Dorothea.” 

“Oh, of course. I can take your name and try to find them and tell them to come meet you here. May I ask who you are, miss?” Mercedes said, standing at the desk. 

“Ah, apologies.” The tall blue-haired woman said, striding across the tile flood as another woman walked in behind her. She offered her hand, and Mercedes was rather awestruck by the way the sharp blue angles of the tattoo on her cheek were contrasting with the deep amber-brown of her skin. “My name is Vasily.” Mercedes took the hand, shaking it firmly. 

“May I ask why you’re looking for our friends, lady Vasily? I mean to imply no mistrust, but we don’t often get visitors here at the Monastery, with the war and all.” Mercedes clarified. 

“I suppose. You see I’m-“ Vasily began, before another woman en

“It is fine, Mercedes.” A familiar voice called. A tall, dark skinned woman stepped into the light, grinning from ear to ear even with the long thick scar drawn across the entirety of her left cheek. She wore a pair of tan colored pants interlaid with intricate purple embroidery, as well as a long shirt of heavy grey linen tied with a purple sash. Her long purple hair was pulled back into a massive, intricate braid, matching the patterned shawl laid over her shoulders, a mark of Brigian royalty. “Vasily is with me. I just want to say hello to my girls.” 

“Petra!” Flayn cheered, running and practically tackling the woman in a hug. 

Alexandra looked over to her queen, a hand resting on her axe. Petra raised a hand, stilling her protector as she hugged Flayn back. 

“Hello, Flayn, it certainly has been too long.” Petra greeted the enthusiastic healer, before setting her back down. “Now, why don’t we go see about finding my Bellflower and Rose? I haven’t come across them anywhere, so far.” 

“I think I might know where to look.” Mercedes said, quickly throwing her own shawl on as she began to lead Petra toward the greenhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah! Not much of substance, but a bunch of nice, cute shit and some foreshadowing of things to come. Oh my! Lots of fun! As always, I love any and all comments y'all fine folks feel like leaving, and I hope y'all have a good week! See you next week! 
> 
> Now, It's like 5 in the morning here where I am, so I'mma go pass the fuck out cus a bitch is TIRED. Peace!
> 
> Also, follow me on twitter and shit, I guess? Idk. @DresstheSage


	37. Chapter 32: Unholy Confessions, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I understand. So, I’m guessing I don’t have time to change out of my gardening clothes?” Bernadetta gestured to the ragged work shirt and tattered old jeans she was wearing as a faint click came from behind Dorothea. 
> 
> “Nope! But don’t worry, it looks cute on you.” 
> 
> “Oh now you’re just saying stuff.” 
> 
> “Not at all! Now come on, or the food is gonna get all mushy.” Dorothea prodded, grabbing Bernadetta by her hand and turning to pull her out the currently-open, now occupied door. 
> 
> “Might there be enough for a third?” Petra asked, stood with her arms locked behind her back as she saw both her partners’ eyes light up, taking a moment to try and find some sort of sign that she wasn’t real, just a figment of their imaginations, set to vanish in an instant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Another shorter update, but I think there should only be one or two of these left, and believe me when I say the last update of this chapter is gonna be one that'll be worth the wait. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys this weeks chapter chunk. There'll be some extra notes in the end-notes of this week just kinda explaining why i've been so behind lately, so for anyone curious about my bullshit, there's that, and for those who just want the gay shit, enjoy!

“Bernadetta!” Dorothea called, making the poor archer jump a bit as she was knelt in the dirt around the iris plant in her little corner of the greenhouse. Dorothea closed the greenhouse door behind her, a basket in one hand as she strolled up to her partner, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. “There you are cutie. Ready to head out?” 

“Give me just a second. I’m just making sure that everything was all pruned, cus otherwise the plant wastes energy and nutrients trying to maintain parts it doesn’t need.” Bernadetta said, snipping one final wilting leaf. 

“I know what pruning is for, hun. I swear, I could probably write a book just on the little snippets i’ve overheard from you talking about plants.” Dorothea said, helping a slightly-embarrassed Bernadetta to her feet. 

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t know anything.” Bernadetta said, rubbing her elbow as she averted her eyes. 

“No, baby, it’s fine. You’re cute when you talk about your stuff.” Dorothea added in a hurry. “I guess I was just in a hurry. There’s warm food in here and I wanna get to our spot before it gets cold.” 

“I understand. So, I’m guessing I don’t have time to change out of my gardening clothes?” Bernadetta gestured to the ragged work shirt and tattered old jeans she was wearing as a faint click came from behind Dorothea. 

“Nope! But don’t worry, it looks cute on you.” 

“Oh now you’re just saying stuff.” 

“Not at all! Now come on, or the food is gonna get all mushy.” Dorothea prodded, grabbing Bernadetta by her hand and turning to pull her out the currently-open, now occupied door. 

“Might there be enough for a third?” Petra asked, stood with her arms locked behind her back as she saw both her partners’ eyes light up, taking a moment to try and find some sort of sign that she wasn’t real, just a figment of their imaginations, set to vanish in an instant. 

Then she sees the corners of Dorothea’s mouth twitch up, actually letting herself believe that she’s there, standing in front of the both of them. Dorothea tries to find words that could seem fittingly witty or flirtatious in the circumstances, but Bernadetta doesn’t waste the time, practically disappearing with how fast she lunges forward, tackling Petra in a hug. While her initial hug isn’t enough to send Petra to the ground, soon enough Dorothea thuds against the both of them, sending them all sprawling back, and Petra gets to feel the strange combination of sensations that is being hugged by two of the most important people in her life, while a bundle of plants gets smashed between her back and the dirt. 

“Um, my queen…?” Alexandra asked, stood barely off to the side of the door frame, Vasily beside her, the two of them locked together arm-in-arm, her other hand near her axe handle. “I’ll assume this is them?” 

“Yes Alexi, you can stand down.” Petra says, waving her guard off again. 

“That is what, the fourth and fifth person you’ve threatened with that axe so far?” Vasily asked, nudging her wife with her elbow as Petra tried to choke out some greetings to her partners while both of them where sputtering out half-formed questions like ‘when did you… how did you… why didn’t you tell us…’ although most of the questions didn’t actually finish before the asker simply abandoned it in favor of placing another kiss on Petra’s cheek. 

“Ok, let’s not be dramatic. It’s the third and fourth, at most.” Alexandra protested. 

“Sweetheart, we’ve been here an hour, an hour and a half at most. That’s still a concerning amount.” Vasily said, somewhat teasing but with a bit of genuine concern mixed in. 

“I’m her guard, it’s my job to ensure she is safe. It’s not my fault that Adrestians appear to be more interested in attempting to tackle the queen then greet her.” 

“Sweetheart, that is a hug.” 

“I am aware of what a hug is, but that…” Alexandra gestured to the two women now finally crawling off of Petra, who was pushing herself up and presenting the now moderately mangled bouquet of flowers she had been hiding behind her back, half of them being red roses while the others were bundles of Bellflower in various shades of violet. “Could be called a hug in the same way I could be called a personal assistant, perhaps correct, but with much more violence than the word implies.”

“Oh please, Alexi, you’re just being dramatic. I can remember quite a few times you’ve returned home from far shorter trips apart and been just as enthusiastic in your greetings.” That made Alexandra blush, not that she’d ever admit it. “Awe, have I struck a nerve?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Alexandra lied.

“Of course you don’t, my dear.” Vasily said, giving her wife a peck on the cheek. 

“Petra,” Bernadetta said, hugging the bouquet as she, perhaps, tried to act as if she was not crying. “How… how long have you been back? We haven’t heard anything from you in months.”

“I was sadly forced to spend my last few months in Brigid navigating a… slightly sticky situation regarding a less-than-loyal faction of Brigian military leadership. As such, I was rather incapable of taking the time to write a letter. And by the time I was able to, we were readying to return, and Vasily advised that letting you know I was on my way, were it to be intercepted, could present too great of a risk to our safety. Plus, I thought it might be a fun surprise. I’ve missed you both, so very much.” Petra said, taking one of each of her partners’ hands.

“We missed you too, Pee-flower.” Dorothea said, leaning back into another hug. 

“We’re so glad you’re back.” Bernadetta added, scooting closer and kissing Petra on the cheek. Petra grinned from ear to ear, wrapping both her partners in her arms and clutching them close. 

“I am glad to be back, if only to see the both of you again. Now, if I was not mistaken, I overheard something mentioned about a picnic?” Petra asked, chuckling as Dorothea realized she had completely forgotten, the basket discarded, though thankfully still upright, in the entrance to the greenhouse. 

“Oh! Yes! We were about to go and celebrate our anniversary on our little spot in the mountains.” Dorothea said. 

“But our anniversary was a month ago?” Petra said, quite confused. 

“Well, we’ve been off on missions on-and-off for several weeks now, so this was kind of the first day we had to actually rest and make an occasion of it.” Bernadetta added, in that same sheepish voice Petra had missed for so long. 

“Well, perhaps it was simple divine grace trying to make sure we didn’t have to celebrate another year’s anniversary apart. May I join you?” Petra asked. 

“Of course, Petra! If you hadn’t asked, I was fully intent to drag you along.” Dorothea said, standing and fetching the basket as Petra helped Bernadetta to her feet. 

“That won’t be necessary, I assure you.” Petra assured, brushing some of the dirt off of Bernadetta’s clothes. “My oh my, Bellflower, I did not know you’d taken to getting so messy in my absence.” Bernadetta was confused, until she looked down at her dirt-and-plant-matter smeared pants and shirt. 

“Oh goddess! I forgot I hadn’t changed.” Bernadetta was about to apologize until she caught herself, and remembering something else. “Oh! Petra, come here! I want to show you the iris I've been growing while you were away!” Bernadetta dragged Petra toward the greenhouse, barely noticing Dorothea move out of her way, smiling as she saw Petra dragged to the plant. A few minutes, and she was complimenting the massive purple flower, making Bernadetta beam like the sun. Dorothea didn’t even care if the food grew cold with the wait and the walk, it was worth it. Bernadetta had put so much care and love and hope into that plant, and now that she was getting to share it with Petra, she looked happier than Dorothea had seen her be in years. She’d come to smile easier and easier as the past few years had dragged on, even with the war and bloodshed, she grew into herself more and more each day, but none of the smiles compared to the one Bernie was flashing as Petra talked to her about plants. 

“Hello, Hubert.” Edelgard greeted, walking in to the Audience Chamber where her brother was currently sat, pen in one hand and a mountain of requisition forms before him. 

“Ah, Edelgard. I was not aware you had returned.” Hubert said, setting his pen down. 

Edelgard chuckled. “We both know that’s a lie. I’ll bet ten gold that you know exactly the moment my carriage was turned in to the stable.”

“I’m certain I have no idea what you mean.” Hubert said, looking up to see a rather unimpressed look on his sisters face. “... 12:17, although you arrived at the front gate at 12:13.” 

“There we are.” Edelgard said, walking toward her office with a sly grin. “I had worried you were losing your edge. Come, we have much to discuss, it seems.” 

“I’d say so. Thales seems to be getting rather creative with his aggravating little schemes as of late.” Hubert mused as he pulled a notepad from his breast pocket. “I have spent the better part of a day running through all potential options. Our choices for the ball itself seem rather limited in regards to your defense. Any weapon smuggled would be a massive liability, easily found by even the most basic of detection magic. The only way to ensure your safety to the maximum degree is to ensure you have an able, well, ‘guest’.” Hubert hitched on that final word. 

“Date. You mean a date.” Edelgard said as she dropped into her chair. 

“I mean someone to guard you from Those Who Slither. Whatever you mean to term it, I care little. You are allotted one guest, and while all of the rest of the strike force will be there, the vast majority of them are some form of weapon user. There are some magic users, like myself, but battles between mages overwhelmingly come down to skill and practice, neither of which any of our allies have in greater supply than Thales, as bitter as that admission is to my tongue.” 

“That is true. But, then what exactly would you recommend? If our sword, lance, bow and axe users are not an option, and it would be unwise to pit any of our magic users against potential threats from Thales, what is left?” 

“With casters and weapons based fighters out of the question, we need a brawling specialist. We only have two of those currently in our repertoire; Caspar, and…” Hubert hesitated for just a fraction of a second at the second name. 

“Catherine.” Edelgard finished for him. “I’m well aware of the skills of our teammates, brother. You needn’t list them out so plainly. But, I will say of the two I’d prefer the latter to the former. No insult meant to Caspar, of course, but I worry Linhardt might become a larger threat to me than Thales.” 

It was Hubert’s turn to let out a small chuckle. “I don’t think that would be of any concern, Linhardt does not strike me as the jealous type. That seems rather energetic work, of which I doubt he’d willingly engage in. From what I have heard when joining Ferdinand for his morning tea times with Dorothea and Manuela, those two have the most stable and simple of most any of the relationships in this goddess forsaken monastery.” 

“Ah, Hubert I worry about the potential ramifications of having my main spymaster cavorting around with the local gossips.” Edelgard teased. 

“Ah yes, as I’ve never shown any skill with keeping secrets.” Hubert drolled with a roll of his eyes. “Were it not for my level head, sister, you would have given away our conspiracy within the first few months of the academy.” 

“Oh that is not true!” Edelgard glowered. 

“You know damn well it is. You’d have told everything to the first woman with a pretty face and a lacking intellect who batted her eyes at you.” That seemed to be something even Edelgard couldn’t protest. “On the topic, I think Catherine would be a good choice to accompany you. She was actually the one I intended to recommend. We’ve seen what she can do with an improvised weapon, and how she can handle crowds. I’d feel far safer with her by your side than anyone else.” Hubert explained, straightening out the front of his shirt. He had for some time now found the need for a change of attire, and as such he was wearing a starched white button down and slacks underneath a black jacket customary of a military leader, trimmed in gold and with the golden emblem of the Adrestian flag on his breast. 

“It seems sensible. She’s fetching lunch at the moment, and I believe she has a personal matter to attend to after. I can discuss it with her between the two. ” Edelgard said, moving to address her own paperwork load. 

“Ah, well… good. Let me know how she responds.” Hubert said, a bit off-put. He had expected more push-back on the idea from Edelgard. He’d prepared to argue the case until he was blue. This was underwhelming to say the last. He thought to press a bit, and see if Dorothea, Manuela and his partner were not simply clucking like hens as he had assumed. “But, at the very least, we will likely not receive much questioning on any ‘improved security measures’ that ought strike Thales as suspicious.” 

“How do you mean? Do you intend to rely on the beast’s kind heart that he shall not attempt something after the ball? It seems just his type of trick, throw an event, let us spend all evening wondering when he will strike, and when our vigilance is down from exhaustion or feeling secure to launch his actual attack.” Edelgard lamented. 

“Oh, no, I have no intentions of merely hoping for or relying on Thales’ lack of thought when the matter of your life is at stake. But your axe will remain in your bedchamber,and it will be rather easy to simply stow Thunderbrand and Catherine’s spear in with your morning breakfast the morning of the ball.” Hubert explained, scratching away at his notepad as he made sure to mark all the necessary arrangements. 

“Why exactly would we need to do that?” Edelgard asked, not even paying attention as she scratched out a response to another pestering lord. 

“Well, no one will question why you would take a date to your bedchambers in the same way they might question a bodyguard standing outside of the room all evening. Smuggling the weapons in will be simple enough, and leave no need to fetch them on the way returning from the ball.” Hubert said nonchalantly, as if it were the most trivial of notes. 

“Ah, I see.” Edelgard said, a bit more focused now, cleraing her throat as she seemed to try and think of how to respond. “Good, good planning, brother. I can’t understand why I hadn’t thought of that.” 

“Thank you. And that is why you have me here in the first place, is it not?” Hubert asked, seeing almost instant regret in Edelgard’s eyes as she realized she might have given away just a bit too much. “I assume you two will simply use whatever your usual sleeping arrangement is for when Catherine protects you on the evenings when you are outside of the monastery.” Edelgard just nodded. 

“Of course. Thank you Hubert.” 

“It is not a problem, Edelgard. Now, by my best plan, I’ll have the staff smuggle a change of clothes, Catherine’s weaponry and armor, and a way to signal the rest of the team in case of an emergency. Is there anything else you could think I might need to have snuck in?” Hubert asked expectantly.

“No, Hubert. That all sounds fine.” Edelgard assured, speaking just a bit quicker than her usual pace. 

“Well then I shall ensure it is done promptly. By my spies best estimates, Arundel will be arriving tonight, which means likely we’ll be expecting him to run our staff ragged the next few days in preparation. I will ensure he is maintained up until the start of the event. But after that, I’m afraid there is little I can do.” 

“I know you’re doing all you can, brother. I just don’t know what kind of game Thales is playing with us this time, and it’s maddening.” Edelgard said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

“I understand. Just allow the Strike Force to do as best we can to protect you, and we will face this beast together.” 

“Thank you, brother. I do appreciate that.” 

“Of course.” Hubert said with a bow, walking slowly out of the office and leaving Edelgard to her thoughts. As he stepped into his office he sighed and looked at his list of supplies, taking note that Edelgard hadn’t seemed to notice his list's lack of any sort of cot or alternative sleeping arrangement for Catherine. 

He supposed that question was finally answered with certainty then.

Inessa and Sylvia were taking a small stroll through the Monastery that afternoon, the sun barely past the middle of the sky as they took a moment to sit at the edge of the dock overlooking the pond. Inessa had packed a few small sandwiches for the two of them, and had to continually remind Sylvia not to throw chunks of her bread into the water to watch the fish pop up to snag it. 

“But mooooom! The fish are so cool!” Sylvia groaned, taking a bite from her well-picked-apart sandwich. 

“You’ve been spending a bit too much time with Flayn and Mercedes.” Inessa muttered under her breath before continuing a bit louder. “If you throw all your food into the pond you’re going to be a little grumpyguss before supper. So please eat your food and maybe we can find something else to toss in for the fish to eat.” Inessa tried to bargain. Sylvia went to protest more, only to be cut of by the voice of Shamir, who neither had heard walk up onto the dock behind them. 

“Maybe we ought to throw you in there, kid, see if the fish nibble on you.”

“Shamer!” Sylvia shouted, jumping up and tackling the Dagdan, or more precisely her leg, in a hug. Shamir pat the child on the head. 

“Hey, kid. I thought you promised me you’d give your mom a little less guff?” Shamir asked, kneeling down and poking Sylvia in the forehead. 

“I promised I’d try.” Sylvia grumbled, not meeting the mercenary’s eye. 

“Well, promise me you’ll try a little harder, and I'll keep my end of the bargain.” 

“Ok, I promise!” Sylvia said, making Shamir smile as she plucked two gold coins from her coin purse, popping them into Sylvia’s hand. 

“Good. Now why don’t you go see what kind of sweets they’ve got today in the kitchen?” 

“Ok!” Sylvia yelped, running off toward the kitchen. Shamir chuckled and looked over to Inessa, who had at some point stood back up from the end of the dock. 

“I’m sorry, Shamir. I have tried to talk to her about your name, but I don’t quite think she understands. I didn’t realize she’d managed to con you into paying her to behave. ”

“Inessa, I’ve told you, it’s fine. At this point, i’m pretty sure it’s more of a nickname than a misunderstanding, and I mostly just give her a coin or two when I have something to spare. Kids deserve happy little things like that.” Shamir shifted her footing, which was about the closest thing the woman did to any visible signs of nervousness. “I just was wanting to check in with you. I’m going out hunting, and wanted to know if there was anything you need.”

“Oh, um, thank you but you really don’t need to. We’re doing pretty well for food, considering everything you’ve brought. Besides the duck, of course. Those go rather quickly.” Inessa said, rubbing her elbow as she tried not to act as nervous as she felt. 

“Oh? I’ll make sure to remember that. I hadn’t known you were so fond of it.” 

“It’s one of my favorite types of meat. Sylvia enjoys it, but I’m usually the one who ends up eating the majority when I cook with it.”

“It’s funny. I’m rather fond of it myself. I’ll keep my eyes open for any ducks when I’m out.” Shamir said, as if she was accepting some sort of mission briefing. 

“Shamir, you don’t need to worry about it or go out of your way. Like I said, we’re doing fine.” Inessa tried to backtrack, as worries of being a burden or a bother seemed to pour into her mind from somewhere deep within. 

“I don’t mind, Inessa. If I see anything, i’ll bring it if I can. It’s not ‘out of my way’.” 

“Allright, if you are certain… If you do manage to find anything you can spare, why don’t you bring it around and I'll make it into supper for the three of us? As a thank you? I know Sylvia would love to have you around for a meal.” Inessa offered, barely managing to hold Shamir’s gaze. But that did little to stop the mercenary from looking away a moment later. 

“I… I’ll see. Goodbye, Inessa.” Shamir slung her bow over her shoulder, making her way toward the front gate, and leaving Inessa to watch her trudge away. 

There was some time between the point when Shamir had left her line of sight, and when she heard Sylvia giggling profusely. 

“Put me down you meanie!” Inessa heard her daughter shout. 

“Not a chance, kiddo. You’ve snuck enough sweets from the kitchen as is. You have to be careful or they’ll notice. Patience is key.” Catherine said, the heavy thud of her boots ending right beside Inessa. “Lady Inessa, I believe this lil thief belongs to you.” The guard offered, plonking Sylvia and the preposterously large sweetbread in her hands on the dock. “Inessa? You ok?” Inessa snapped from her thoughts, looking over from the spot her eyes had been locked on and noticing the knight. 

“Oh, pardon, Catherine. I was lost in thought. Thank you for bringing her back.” 

“Of course. Always happy to help keep an eye on her. You sure you’re ok though, hun? You seem a little, uh, glum?” 

“She’s just grumpy cus her girlfriend is weird.” Sylvia said through a mouth full of sweetbread. 

“Sylvia, that’s very rude.” Inessa said. 

“I’m not wrong!” 

“I’m so confused.” Catherine said, trying to follow the two’s point.

“Shamer is being a weirdo and mom is too chicken to talk to her about it.” Sylvia said, making Inessa sigh and drag her hand down her face. 

“Who the… oh.” Catherine seemed to realize who was the topic of the conversation and chewed her cheek for a moment. “Is Shamir being a bitc… bit of a jerk?” Catherine asked, barely catching the curse. 

“No, no, she’s been absolutely wonderful. I just... “ Inessa looked at Sylvia, who seemed to have lost interest in the conversation in favor of her treat. Still, Inessa lowered her voice. “You’ve mentioned that you and Shamir used to be comrades in the field, yes?” 

“Uhhh, yeah, let’s go with that.” 

“Is she always so… distant? She’s visited myself and Sylvia nearly daily since she arrived here, and I am not complaining about the company, nor the food and other things she brings. But it always feels as if she’s put a wall around herself. Every time it feels like she’s letting it down, she gets so quiet, and just leaves. I worry she might feel obligated to visit, to help us, and I just don’t know how to ask her about it that doesn’t seem like I want her to stop.” 

“Do you?” 

“... No.” Inessa admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“... Ah. Well, I… Let me try talking to her about it.” 

“Oh, no, Lady Catherine you don’t need to go-” 

“Hey, it’s no bother. Besides, I was uh, heading out that way anyway…”Catherine said, turning away only to turn right back. “Which way did she go, again?” Catherine asked, scratching at the back of her head. 

“She said she was going hunting.” Sylvia said, pointing toward the north gate. 

“Thanks, kid.” Catherine said, moving that direction. Inessa sighed and tried to ignore the building headache. 

“How long have you been listening?” She asked her daughter. 

“I never stopped.” Sylvia said, pride beaming out of her voice. 

“What am I ever going to do with you, sweety?” Sylvia just shrugged, and the two resumed their place at the end of the dock, Sylvia offering her mother a large chunk of her treat, which was reluctantly accepted. 

Ashe ducked out of the path of Marianne’s axe, cackling like an idiot as she popped back up, weapon at the ready. 

“Come on, Annie, you’re gonna have to-” Ashe felt her sparring partner’s heel dig into her gut, knocking the wind out of her and her firmly onto her ass. 

“Nice one Mari!’ Leonie cheered, clapping as she watched Ashe lurch back to her feet, shooting her quite the look of betrayal. “Oh come on, babe, she is like 140 pounds at most, she can’t kick that hard!” 

“Then you come get your spleen kicked in!” Ashe shot back, propping herself up on her axe. 

“No, I’m good! I’m tired from whooping both of your slow asses in the first two rounds.” Leonie bragged, leaning back against the sleeping form of Seteth, who sat with her head in Leonie’s lap, occasionally receiving a nice scratch to the spots on her head she couldn’t scratch herself. 

“I hope I didn’t kick too hard.” Marianne said as she walked up to Ashe, resting a hand on the silver haired woman’s shoulder. 

“No, Annie, you did good. That was a hell of a kick, and you’ve really taken to your axe training.” Ashe said, trying to pretend she didn’t have a shooting pain in her intestines. 

“Oh… well ok. If you’re sure. But yes, I’ve very much enjoyed the lessons with the axe. Thank you both so much for letting me train with you.” Marianne said, smiling as she looked between the both of them. 

“Of course!” Leonie said, standing up, much to Seteth’s dismay, and walking over to the two. 

“Really, Marianne, the pleasure is all ours. It’s nice to have someone to work with, and your magic is really helpful for practicing our dodging in the field. Leonie’s arrows can only simulate so much.” Ashe added. 

“Are you trying to call me slow?” Leonie teased. 

“No, sweetheart. If I was going to call you slow, I’d talk about you trying to get up in the morning, not your arrows.” 

“Oh, don’t you even start! I am not that bad.” Leonie said, crossing her arms defiantly. 

“She absolutely is.” Ashe whispered to Marianne. “By the time she is out of the tent out on scouting missions, I’ve already gotten dressed, made breakfast, and readied our mounts.” 

“Oh you are such a liar.” Leonie said in faux offense. “I am not a morning person, sure, but this little drama queen here is the one who goes to bed at 4 in the afternoon. Of course she’s gonna wake up early.” 

“I do not!” 

“You so do.” Leonie said. 

“I go to bed at nightfall, that is so not 4 in the afternoon!” 

“It’s as good as.” Leonie looked confused as Ashe walked around her, marching toward the mounts. “Hey! You better not be messing with Lancealot!” 

“I’m not! But you made me grumpy so I’m eating your lunch!” Ashe shouted back, breaking into a run. 

“Oh that little shit! Come on, Annie, let’s kick her ass.” 

“Oh, um, ok?” Marianne said as she followed behind Leonie, the two of them running after Ashe as the silver haired woman had already sat down with the basket they’d packed their meal in. Instead of eating, however, it seemed she had laid out a blanket and set out three bundles of food and things of water. 

“Don’t you dare touch my food!” Leonie panted out, making Ashe chuckle as she threw a thing of crackers at Leonie. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. But I knew that was the only way to make you shut up and actually sit down for lunch.” Leonie rolled her eyes, tacking a seat beside her partner. 

‘You bossy lil bitch.” Leonie said, leaning in and kissing Ashe not he cheek as she unwrapped a sandwich. “Love you.” 

“Love you too, baby.” Ashe said, taking a bite from her own food before returning to pulling things out of the basket. Marianne stood awkwardly, rubbing her arm as she tried to think of what to do,not having packed food herself, when Ashe held out a bundle of paper just like she had handed Leonie. “Didn’t think we were gonna leave you high and dry, now did you?” 

Marianne took the sandwich and sat down, a bit farther away from Ashe then Leonie had, and took a bite from her sandwich after unwrapping it. 

“This is delicious.” Marianne said quietly. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. It’s nothing much, really.” 

“It’s a damn good sandwich if I’ve ever had one. You’ve gotten really good at baking bread lately, babe.” Leonie said around another bite. 

“You flatter me.” Ashe responded, seeing her partner flash her a wink mid-bite. 

“I mean it.” Leonie said. 

“You made the bread?” Marianne asked. 

“Yeah. And the chicken too.” 

“Oh my, I didn’t know you were one to cook.” Marianne said, a bit ashamed after almost a year of training with them that she still knew so little. 

“Oh yeah. Ashe is a wiz at the stuff. I could never compare to her.” Leonie said adamantly. 

“You just say that so I won’t make you cook when we’re out on a mission.” 

“You can’t prove anything.” Leonie teased before changing the subject. “So, Annie, how has the greenhouse been doing lately?”

“Oh! It’s been lovely. Bernadetta and I have been the only ones taking care of it, but the flowers are all really, really pretty and Berny takes great care of her iris and the vegetables.” Marianne explained. “How has Lancelot been? His mane looks very nice today.” 

“Haha, I was wondering if you’d noticed.” Leonie said, looking at her horse as he ate some wild grass. “The stubborn bastard won’t settle down to let me brush him most days, but I tried that herb mixture you gave me, and he was calm as could be. I finally got all the knots out of his hair.” 

“Oh, I thought it might help!” Marianne said, absolutely giddy. 

“Well it did, so thank you for that.” Leonie said, smiling as she saw Marianne’s hands flap, as if trying to subtly shake water from her hands. She had seen her do that so often whenever they talked about horses or gardening. It was sincerely the cutest thing Leonie had ever seen, well aside from her partner of course. Leonie finished her sandwich, leaning back against Ashe and her wyvern as she stretched and yawned. “Fuck, I’m tired. Nap time.” Leonie muttered, closing her eyes as she felt Ashe shift behind her, yawning herself. 

“Cmon Leo, it’s only like, three o’clock.” Ashe said, finishing her yawn and rubbing her eye.

“Yeah, like I said, nap time.” Leonie mumbled, somehow already half asleep. “Now shut up, pillows don’t talk.” 

“See what I have to deal with, Annie?” Ashe asked, vaguely gesturing to Leonie, who just bobbed her head groggily from side to side smiling glibly. 

“I mean, some rest does sound nice.” Marianne said. 

“See? You’re outvoted, babygirl.” Leonie said, nudging Ashe with her elbow, before kissing her on the cheek. 

“Oh fine.” Ashe muttered, resting an arm over Leonie’s shoulder. A few second later, Leonie turned to face Marianne, smiling through half-lidded eyes and raising one of her arms. “Wanna join us, Annie?” 

Ashe looked down at Leonie, rather surprised. Although in all hindsight she ought not have been, Leonie never was one to be subtle. Marianne looked as if a brick had just been flung into her gut, and for an instant they both worried that that might have been a step too far.

“Are… are you sure?” Marianne asked, hesitantly toying with the fabric of her dress. Leonie smiled, relieved.

“Wouldn’t’ve offered if I wasn’t.” 

“And as long as you’re comfortable with it.” Ashe added. Another long moment passed, and soon she scooted over, finding a place comfortably wedged between Leonie and Ashe, with Leonie’s head on her shoulder, already mostly asleep, and Ashe’s arm draped over the both of them. Another second, and Marianne felt a heavy weight in her lap and heard a soft thud, looking down to see Seteth’s scarred green head plopped onto her legs, the massive beasts form having wrapped around the portion of them not surrounded already. Marianne giggled and scratched behind the wyvern’s head, finding the one small spot that always made the beast purr like some sort of massive, murderous kitten. The soft rumble ran through all three of them, and soon Marianne was drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! So I hope everyone enjoyed this weeks chapter-let. It's setting up quiiiite a bit of shit for the rest of the chapter, and giving us some fun little fluff here and there. 
> 
> So, I think that in the next week or two I should be able to stop these mini-updates and go back to my regular update size/schedule. For those of you curious, i've been working 2-3 14 hour night shifts on top of my regular workload the past 2 months, and as such my sleep schedule as well as my workload has been on some absolutely fucked shit. That's one reason my updates have been smaller, because that was the most i could guarentee to regularly write each week. But, hopefully this upcoming week should be the last of that schedule, and so I hope to only have 2 more weeks of mini-updates, as the week after i get back to my normal schedule I should be able to write at my usual schedule and actually get back to writing this story! Hopefully it all works out that way, and I just wanna say thank you to everyone who has stuck around with me and this fic for all this time. It's been nearly 9 months now, and I really can't thank y'all enough. Here's hoping I can give this story the ending I want to before we hit one year, hahaha. 
> 
> as always, all comments are appreciated. I love talking with y'all, and the feedback always helps me, especially when I hit walls or struggle with writing cus it reminds me why I do it, for y'all.


	38. Chapter 32: Unholy Confessions, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Gods, is there nothing better for you to do then go around butting into other people’s business?” Shamir glowered, turning to march off into the woods. 
> 
> “Mimi, I’m just trying to help.” Catherine was about to say more, when she felt Shamir’s fist smash into her sternum, knocking her to the ground, breath clubbed out of her. 
> 
> “Do not call me that. I told you years ago, you lost any right to call me that when you threw me aside.” Shamir wasn’t one to yell, but the unhindered rage that lurked in the stillness of her voice as she stood over Catherine was far more terrifying than any shout could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! As usual, here's my late-as fuck Monday night update. I wish you all a good rest of your week, especially to others condemned to the hellhole that is The United States. I'm tired as fuck, so I'm gonna leave this note short and sweet. I do have a question at the end notes tho, so keep your eyes peeled for that. Follow me on twitter @Dressthesage if you like the shit I write, and take care of yourselves y'all.

Catherine had been wandering the forest for barely 10 minutes when an arrow buried into the ground at her feet, its blue hawk-feather fletching billowing in the breeze as the knight followed the arrow’s path back to the archer stood in the branches of a tree above. 

“You’re still piss poor at sneaking.” Shamir said from the top of the tree, not moving to draw another arrow but clearly not intending to put her bow away. 

“I wasn’t trying to be stealthy. I was trying to find you.” Catherine said, facing her comrade. 

“And in doing so, you’ve likely scared away every piece of game for a mile in any direction.” Shamir hit the ground with a soft thud. 

“Well good, then that means you’ve got nothing to rush to. We need to talk. What the hell is going on with you and Inessa?” Catherine asked, stepping closer until the two were just a few feet apart. 

“Nothing that is any of your concern.” 

“Bullshit. Inessa is my friend, and if you’re screwing with her heart then I have an obligation to ask what the hell you’re thinking.” 

“Gods, is there nothing better for you to do then go around butting into other people’s business?” Shamir glowered, turning to march off into the woods. 

“Mimi, I’m just trying to help.” Catherine was about to say more, when she felt Shamir’s fist smash into her sternum, knocking her to the ground, breath clubbed out of her. 

“Do not call me that. I told you years ago, you lost any right to call me that when you threw me aside.” Shamir wasn’t one to yell, but the unhindered rage that lurked in the stillness of her voice as she stood over Catherine was far more terrifying than any shout could be. “Have you considered that perhaps you’re the last damned person I want anywhere near my business? That perhaps I don’t need your fucking stalwart ‘hey, everything is going to be ok. You just need to be able to open up and trust others’ bullshit? I know I should be able to trust her. I fucking can’t! And if anyone in this damned Monastery is going to help me, it as sure as the day is long is not going to be you.” Shamir spat ther word ‘you’ as she turned, kicking at the base of a nearby tree and shouting a familiar Dagdan swear. Catherine pushed herself up, coughing as she tried to catch her breath.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t think that-” 

“Yes, well you should have.” Shamir muttered, not looking at the knight as she held her expression in her customary deadpan glare. “After Jerric, you were the first person I let anywhere close to me. You… I thought I could trust you. You were the first woman like me I’d met in this entire damned continent, the first person who treated me like an actual person and not just some ‘savage’. Then it all went to hell and I paid the price.” Shamir wouldn’t let herself cry. Not here, not in front of her. But damned if that didn’t mean she only grew angrier. “I know that… it wasn’t you, or wasn’t all you, or however you want to say it, but that doesn’t undo the months I spent hurting because of the vile things you said to me, Catherine. I… I’ve forgiven you for what happened, but I haven’t forgotten it. We’re not just back to ‘the good old days’, and you can’t just storm out here on your hero-complex bravado bullshit and hope that you can make everything right, fix everyone’s problems.” 

“I’m sorry, Shamir.” 

“I know. But that doesn’t make it better.” 

“I didn’t expect it to… But you either need to figure your shit out, and fast, or you need to talk to Inessa about everything. I understand that you might not want to hear this from me, but I’m the one who is here, and she deserves damn better than that and your little ‘angsty woodland huntress’ routine.” Catherine swallowed her pride, and figured she’d already dug her grave, what was a few more feet? “I don’t want you to hate me, Shamir, but I understand if you do. But this ain’t about me. I didn’t come out here for me, or for anything to do with us, I came out here because that woman has been through enough in her life already and you can’t hang half in and half out of it in your own little limbo forever.” 

With that, Catherine made her way back to the Monastery, all the while praying that the Kitchen was still open so she wouldn’t have to explain how she took half an hour to go get lunch only to return empty handed. There was another item on her to do list that she knew she couldn’t keep avoiding, but goddess knew that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. 

Shamir remained in the clearing, seething in her anger and a myriad of other pent up, now escaping, emotions. She smashed her boot into the trunk of a tree, shouting yet another Dagdan obscenity. The fluttering of a pair of wings behind her snapped her to attention, spinning on her heel and drawing, readying, and firing her arrow before the bird had even fully left its branch, pinning the rather fat duck to the trunk of the tree it had been lingering in. 

“Damn.” Shamir muttered, kicking at the dirt. She was never one to ask for a sign from any of the gods, but she’d be lying if that didn’t seem like a rather blatant one. 

After a short while, Marianne began to wake up, feeling the rumble of Seteth’s breath, strangely in-time with the soft snoring that she could hear over one shoulder from Ashe, whose head was lulled off to one side, leaned against Marianne’s shoulder and the wyvern’s back. Leonie had fallen asleep with her head in Marianne’s lap, and Marianne noticed a few loose strands wrapped around her fingers. Had she been playing with her hair before she’d finally slept? Should she wake them? It was getting rather late in the afternoon... but she was too comfortable and too self conscious to really bother them. 

It felt wonderful, being in that strange huddle of bodies. She was so unused to affection, especially the type that Ashe and Leonie seemed so keenly skilled at presenting, so open and without hesitation.

In her life in the alliance, her uncle had worked hard to ensure that she had everything she could need, private tutors and maids and house-hands to ensure her needs, at least regarding eating, bathing, sleeping and the like were taken care of, but she spent so much of her life sequestered away in her room that those were really the only connections to the world at large that she had. Her uncle had been kind, taking her in when her parents had disappeared, but at the same time he was a man far older than any father ought to be without a ‘grand’ preceding the title, and it was clear he was of a very similar mind to their bloodline as her father had been. “You must not fraternize among the town. Your presence will bring them nothing but death and misfortune, and with it their wrath upon our house.” 

As Marianne had grown older, she learned that her uncle’s fears were not so unbased. Their family had, several times in past generations, been chased from villages and cities after supposed monstrous attacks and destruction had occurred. As it happened again and again, the myth of their monstrous blood only grew more and more engrained, and any descendent of Maurice was seen as taboo, let alone one with a crest as powerful as Marianne’s. 

Her uncle hadn’t been so awful outside of his isolationism, Marrianne would suppose. He considered himself far above the ‘baser’ prejudices of some of the older of the Alliance’s noble families, and thus when she had begun showing signs of being less akin to the ‘young lord Markus Von Edmund’ and more toward ‘young lady Marianne’, he was more than happy to ensure his company always knew there would be hell to pay for anyone who would speak ill of her, and when it became rather obvious that men simply were not of interest to her, that same protection followed suit. Of course, he was no more accepting of her leaving the manor to date women as an adult then he was to allow her to befriend them as a child. But by that time, Marianne had long given up on attempting to socialize. 

Her uncle had always done his best to be there for her, but he was no master of healing, neither physical nor mental, and thus as Marianne showed more and more ‘excentricities’ as he liked to call them, such as her hand-shaking, or her bouncing, or her difficulty meeting other’s eyes unless speaking about something like gardening or equestrianism, he was rather unsuited to learning how to interact with her. Thus began her ever more complete isolation not out of malice, but merely a total lack of understanding. Then from that isolation, she began to bury herself in books and newspapers and anything of the like she could find. That was where she found out about her family’s curse, and the cause of her uncle’s fears. 

She’d talked about all of this with Ashe and Leonie some time ago, of course. It had been nearly a year of their training alongside each other, and they had grown to know quite a bit about her, and her them. Every time she told them more, she always wondered if that would be the thing that finally broke the illusion, broke whatever charade she had unwittingly enacted to gain trust she did not deserve, and made her finally too much for them to handle, ending with her being left behind yet again. Yet every time, it failed to break them. They would stay beside her, with their massive grins and their careful signs of affection, ready to withdraw if they were ever too much.

But yet, somewhere deep inside of her, Marianne knew it couldn’t last. It was too good, too kind, too soft in a world that while never having been overtly sharp, was too cold for anything to stay this soft. 

“Hmmmmf.” Leonie muttered in her sleepy haze, lifting her head off of Marianne’s lap, sighing and yawning as she stretched out and let her eyes flutter open. “Hey Annie, how’d you sleep?” 

“Oh, um, fine. Thank you.” Marianne said, blushing as she watched Leonie reach up and grab Ashe’s hand, tugging it until the silver-haired wyvern-rider snapped up. 

“I’m awake. What’s wrong?” Ashe said quickly, making Marianne and Leonie laugh. 

“Nothing, babe. Just time for another round of training.”

“Great.” Ashe muttered, stretching and slowly pushing Seteth’s neck aside as she sat up on the wyvern’s shoulders. Leonie and Marianne got up as well, Marianne knocking the dirt off of her dress as Leonie straightened her spine, several loud pops coming as she did so. 

“So, who all is going to be fighting this round?” Leonie asked. 

“I think that it’s your and Marianne’s term to one-on-one. I’m still beat. Besides I…” Ashe suddenly went rather stiff, looking off in the distance. 

“Hey Ashe, you ok?” Leonie asked, snapping in her partner’s face. There was no reply. “Babygirl, you ok?” 

Leonie heard Catherine before she realized she was there. 

“Hey, girls.” Catherine said, scratching at the back of her neck and raising her hand in a vague wave to Leonie and Marianne. “Can I, uh, borrow Ashe for a little while?” 

Leonie and Marianne both looked to the wyvern rider, who held unrepentant suspicion in her glare as she stood up, grabbing her axe from Seteth’s saddle and slinging it into place at her hip. 

‘Baby?” Leonie asked. 

‘I’ll be fine.” Ashe muttered, walking past Catherine. 

“She will be, I swear.” Catherine said to Leonie in a whisper. The archer just shrugged. 

“Good luck, Catherine. You’re gonna need it.” Leonie said. Catherine nodded, and went to follow Ashe. After a while, Leonie reached over and grabbed the remaining half of a sandwich Ashe had left behind. Marianne gave her a look. “What? I just don’t want it to go to waste.” 

Ashe and Catherine walked to the treeline at the edge of the field, where the younger of them put her hands on her hips, staring Catherine down. 

“Uh... hey, Ashe.” 

“The fuck do you want?” Ashe spat, making Catherine visibly flinch. 

“I… I want to talk to you. About everything that happened back at the start of all this. There’s… there’s some things I haven’t been honest with you about.:” 

“I’m shocked.” Sarcasm dripped off of every letter of the sentence as Ashe spoke. “Well get on with it then.” 

“Oh! Shamir, I hadn’t been expecting you so soon.” Inessa said from her doorway, the mercenary trying her best attempt at an awkward smile before holding up the duck in her hand. 

“Yes, well I found a rather fine bird, and I thought it might make for a nice meal.” Shamir said, and for a moment, Inessa saw a gap in that wall, where she could see the faintest hint of fear in Shamir’s eyes. “If I’m still invited...” 

“Of course, Shamir. Come in, I could use help with the cooking. Sylvia is off with Mercedes and Flayn while they shop in the market.” Inessa grabbed Shamir by her un-occupied hand, dragging the older Dagdan into the small apartment and giving her the most curious sense of Deja Vu. 

What the hell was it that made Shamir so liable to let herself be dragged around by blondes? 

Inessa set Shamir in front of a cutting board, a large carving knife set aside with a few scattered vegetables strewn around it, and put her to work preparing them while she carved the bird. Shamir took the time to carve up the potatoes and asparagus with practiced ease, and while she never felt the tension leave her shoulders, she found herself able to slip into a comforting routine as she’d clean, cut and set aside each piece of produce, hearing Inessa hum some jaunty little tune as she was cutting away, slapping chunks of duck meat onto a tin plate and setting aside the bones in a pot. 

Soon enough, the bones and remnants of the duck were brought to a boil in some water, and Inessa was leaning against the stove stirring the pot on occasion, sprinkling one or two spices in and tasting the broth. That was when Shamir felt herself getting more and more tense, until finally she decided that she was tired of avoiding it. 

“Shamir.” Inessa said, snapping the mercenary from her thoughts as she was preparing to speak. “I must be honest with you, I have become rather fond of you, and I am well aware that Sylvia adores you, but over all these past few months I’ve come to two conclusions as to why you act so strangely when you visit us. I wonder if either is correct, and I want you to tell me if so.” 

“I suppose I see no reason to say no.” Shamir said, trying as ever to be an unreadable enigma as Inessa still managed to see past her. 

“My first thought is that you come and visit us, give us food, and spend time with us out of some… pity? Perhaps a feeling of obligation?” Inessa said, her words carving into the deepest pits of guilt and shame that could be found within the woman before her. “I wonder if perhaps you feel that, since you saved us in the woods, you must take care of us further. I will say that, if that is in fact correct, I think it might be best for you to stop your visits, at least to our home. You may say hello and speak to Sylvia whenever you’d like about the monastery, but I see enough pity out there when I try to take my daughter for a simple walk, and I will not have it in my home.” Inessa took a breath, tapping her foot on the floor as she crossed her arms. “My… other conclusion is that my first is in fact not accurate, and there is something you’ve not told me that is making you act so strange. And if that is in fact the case, I would like to know if only so I can ensure that I am not putting my daughter at risk by allowing you in here.” Shamir couldn’t meet her eyes as she said her final words, and that seemed to give Inessa all the answer she needed as to which of her conclusions was correct. 

“I would say that your second assumption is… rather appropriate. I promise you, Inessa, that if either of us is the pitiful one in this situation, it is not you.” Shamir said, dragging her finger along the edge of the counter. 

“I see.” 

For some time, the air held so much tension that it felt as if the room was dangling from the side of a cliff. Shamir took time as she tried to parse exactly how to tell her, well, everything. Finally, she settled her hands on the edge of the counted, clutching at it as she began to speak. 

“Inessa, in truth I worry that I might be selfish in continuing my presence in your life…” 

“Would you care to explain, or am I meant to take your vague self-deprecation as some sort of grand admission?” 

“I… When I lived in Dagda, I told you that I had a husband, a partner.” 

“Yes, you did. You told me he died in the war.” 

“And that is true. My husband’s name was Jerric. He and I were… similar, much in the way Catherine, Ashe, and myself are. I don’t know if you ever got to meet a knight by the name of Joseph, but men like him and Jerric, People like us in general aren’t as uncommon amongst Dagden society as here in Fodlan. We were together for quite some time before the war broke out… So long that we had begun trying to start a family… It was about two months after the doctor in our town told us we should begin preparing a room that the war broke out. It was a short, bloody, brutal thing. Barely a quarter of a year. But still, Jerric died, and I… I was left here.” 

“Shamir, I had no idea…” 

“No one does. No one but you and I.” Shamir said, her breathing even and her face blank as she still felt the tears ebing from her eyes, dripping down her cheek onto the leather of her jacket. “I spent years dreaming of becoming a mother, and after that I knew I.. I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk ever allowing something that close to my heart again. But… I spend more time dreading if I’m more afraid of the thought of even hoping you’d allow me to hold you and Sylvia that closely, or if I’m simply using you both to fill the void that Jerric and my Annabel left behind then I ever spend around you both. I… I don’t know what to do, and I am so sorry that I let this hurt you for as long as I have.” 

Inessa chewed her cheek, looking at the duck on the plate as she tried to think. 

“I think it would be best if you leave.” Inessa began. “Just… just for tonight. I need to...I think that I should take time to think about all of this. You’re a wonderful woman, Shamir, but I can’t afford to not be careful. This doesn’t just effect me, but Sylvia, and that child means more to me than I can ever, ever put into words. This… This isn’t a ‘stay away forever’... but please let me take the night to think about this, and make sure that my heart and my head are in the same place.” 

“Absolutely. I completely understand.” Shamir said, swallowing the frog in her throat as she grabbed her bow for its spot leaning against the wall, leaving the apartment as the door quietly shut behind her. Inessa leaned against the counter, sliding down it like tree sap down bark until she hit the cold stone floor, her face finding its way into her hands as she wished, just once, something in her life could actually be simple. 

Ashe sat, her back against a tree as she stared off into the distance, trying to process everything she had just been told. Cristophe, Rhea, Catherine, the battle, the year after, that night in the greenhouse, all the nights since, it all settled into a new position, a new context, and as she started to see the bigger picture her stomach churned, as if an iron weight had been dropped from the sky into her stomach. 

“That’s… That’s all I have. I know it’s a lot, but, well, you deserved to know.” Catherine said, awkwardly trying to hide the fact she’d been crying as she waited for Ashe to respond. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Ashe asked, looking up at Catherine. Which one of the two looked more ashamed, it was impossible to tell. “Catherine… I’m so sorry.” 

“You shouldn’t be.” 

“Catherine, what are you talking about? I beat you over the head with a damned gardening tool! I called you a traitor, I… why didn’t you tell me?” Ashe asked, standing up as tears began pulling at her eyes. Her voice cracked and she was too overwhelmed to even begin to care. 

“Because, you were right to be mad! Even if it was for the wrong reason.” Catherine choked out. “I failed you, kiddo. I failed everyone. I saw good men die and nearly killed the women I love. But they were soldiers, fighters, they knew what the stakes were. You… Ashe I promised I’d keep you safe, and I failed. I lost so goddess damned much since this war broke out that I was petrified at the thought that I might tell you it all, and you would still hate me. I… you’re the closest thing to family I have left, Ashe. To me, you are family. The thought of finally knowing that you truly hated me terrified me more than staring down my own death ever could. But I knew I couldn’t blame you if you did. How could I blame you for hating me?” Catherine wiped her eyes. “Goddess knows I do.” 

“I just….” Ashe didn’t know how to respond. Everything felt so twisted and upside down. 

Catherine had hurt her, had cut her so deeply without even the need to use her blade. She’d spent so long fighting to be ok without her in her life, struggling to make a path for herself where the loss of a person who had meant so much to her didn’t hurt, and now she was forced to question if she was in the wrong. Catherine had hurt her, but it wasn’t Catherine who made the call. How much of the blame fell on Catherine? How much of it did Ashe want to fall on Catherine? 

Ashe felt herself move before her thoughts could even really process the fact that they weren’t going to come to any kind of conclusion. She practically tackled the taller woman in a hug, squeezing her for dear life as she tried to hide the fact she was sobbing into her armor. 

Catherine, when she first saw Ashe move, had assumed she was about to be struck. But instead she felt the smaller woman trying to crush the air from her lungs. Catherine clasped her arms around Ashe’s shoulders, not even trying to hide her tears. She didn’t care if she got seen crying, Ashe was there, and she couldn’t give a shit less about everything else. Her kid was back, and she didn’t hate her. 

“You fucking idiot.” Ok, maybe Catherine was wrong about the ‘not hating her part’. “You stupid fucking moron! I don’t fucking hate you!” Well, that settled that then. 

“You… you don’t?” 

“No! I… I thought… I thought you didn’t care. I thought I’d let you become so much to me and you just never cared at all… It hurt. I hated that it hurt, because I thought I let you hurt me when I never meant anything to you. I… I don’t know. I just… I thought of you like a mother, and then seeing you on the battlefield, I thought… You stupid fucking idiot! Do you have any fucking idea how much I’ve missed you?! If you’d’ve just told me, I wouldn’t have… I… the greenhouse, I’m-” 

“No. No, Ashe, that… That was all me. I was stupid, and scared, and angry and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

“You stupid fucking idiot.” Ashe muttered into Catherine’s armor as she squeezed her even tighter.

“Woah, kiddo, you’re uh… kinda crushing your ‘mom’s’ lungs.” Catherine choked out, sincerely struggling to breath. 

“Tough shit, ‘mom’.” Ashe said, saying the word as if it was meant to taunt, but enjoying the way it felt to call Catherine that. Catherine felt her let up just a bit, and the two stood there, clinging at each other where they stood, a family, in such strange ways, finally back together. 

“I love you, kid.” Catherine choked out, this time more from her own tears than Ashe’s crushing hug. 

“I love you too, you fucking idiot.” 

After a while, The air was split with the distant crack of snapping wood, followed by a sharp cry of pain that was very obviously from Leonie, sending both women sprinting back to the training ground. 

“Leo!” Ashe shouted as she nearly slammed into her partner, the orange haired woman almost falling over as Ashe looked her over. “What happened? Where is Marianne? Are you ok? I heard a scream.”

“Ashe, babygirl, I’m fine, I’m ok. It’s just a little skin tear.” Leonie said, pointing to a spot on her forehead where blood was clearly gushing out, no matter how much pressure she held to it. “Me and Annie thought we’d do some more sparring while you were… while you were talking with Catherine. It was going pretty well, and Marianne was getting really into her axe work, but something lit up in her and she smashed through the handle of my training lance out of nowhere, and the debris smashed into my forehead. I was out of it for a little while, but when I was able to focus I just saw her sobbing and saying how sorry she was as she was stumbling to the woods. I think… She said something about ‘letting us down’. I tried to tell her it was ok, but she just kept going.” 

“That looks bad, babe. We need to get you to Manuela, fast.” Ashe began. 

“Ashe, it’s a cut on my head, it’s going to bleed a lot, but I've had much worse. Please, calm down before you have a heart attack and I have to worry about dragging your ass to Manuela myself.” Leonie said, trying to make her partner calm down. 

“I… we should still get you checked out.’ 

‘And we will, but right now we need to go find Annie, the poor girl is probably a wreck right now, and we don’t know what-“ The distant sounds of a monstrous roar trailed into the clearing, making Leonie go stiff. “-could be… in...the woods.” Leonie trailed off, looking at the path leading the direction the sound had come from. “You all heard that too, right?” Ashe and Catherine both nodded. “Ok, so not a hallucination… is that a good thing or a bad thing?” 

“We can talk later, that sounded big and it sounded a lot closer than I’d like. Ashe, Leonie, go find Marianne and meet us back here as soon as possible. I’m going to go find Edelgard and rally the Strike Force.” Catherine ordered, seeing Ashe nod as she whistled for Seteth. 

“On it.” Ashe said without a second’s hesitation, making Leonie look at her, visibly confused as she started poking at Ashe’s shoulder, testing if she was actually there and not just a hallucination herself. 

“What the hell happened to you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” Leonie asked as Lancealot trotted up beside her. 

“Long story. Shit is weird, and I might have called Catherine mom.” Ashe explained as she threw her leg over Seteth’s back. 

“Ok, now I know i’m hallucinating all of this.” Leonie muttered to herself as she hopped onto her mount, drawing her lance and charging into the forest, the tree branches snapping at her face as she heard Seteth’s wings beating against the air above her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Excited to have some angst and suspense to cut into the nice little fluff-session we had the past few weeks! Ahahaha! 
> 
> Well, I'm excited to see y'all's reactions to this week, and theories about what I've got in store!!! 
> 
> So, my question to y'all is, overall, would you prefer I keep up the 10-16 page updates, and keep them weekly, or go to every-other-week updates and have them be larger overall blocks of content? I will admit, as someone with anxiety, I worry that these shorter (then my usual) updates will make the pacing feel like a slug-fest now, and make it harder for folks to stick to the story, but I also realize that my update sizes are usually larger than the average one shot, so am I just on some bullshit? I just am starting to realize that, between socialist organizing and school work, I am likely to stay pretty busy even now that some obligations have loosened up. I'm going to try to go back to my old update style in the next few weeks, but if that doesn't work, I wanna know what y'all would prefer overall. Let me know your thoughts! Thots? Thoughts. Idfk I'm tired, gay, and done with this capitalist bullshit.


	39. Chapter 32: Unholy Confessions part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She needed to leave. That much she knew. But still, when she turned and moved for the door, she heard a faint whisper that stopped her in her tracks. 
> 
> “Annie…” It was Leonie. 
> 
> “Miss Pinelli, please do not try and speak. Your ribs are brittle enough as is. 
> 
> “Annie, where are you going? Come back...please?” Leonie whispered out again, and when their eyes met, Marianne saw that she was crying. The blade clattered to the ground as Marianne began moving to one side of the cot that was unoccupied. There was a grunt of pain, and Marianne felt Leonie grab her hand, practically crushing it in her grip. “Is… Is Ashe ok?” 
> 
> “Yes. She… she only had a few broken bones. They’re almost done with her, I think.”
> 
> “That’s good… Annie… I’m scared.” 
> 
> “Miss Pinelli, you need to stop talking!” Manuela ordered again, snapping the girl’s shoulder back into place. 
> 
> “Annie… please, don’t go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Y'all! Another mini-update, cus I might have gotten a bit side tracked with a side project. But anyway! Hope you enjoy!

Marianne clutched her own shoulders as she sat in the roots of a massive aged oak tree whose trunk soared into the sky above her, making her feel all the more miniscule. Not that it made the blood on her hands consume any less of her focus. That was not a metaphor, either. Her hands were, quite literally, covered in blood. She had shed it in her own lack of care, and through her damned crest. She could remember the rush of it as it had filled her body with strength and will, making the entire world seem to lurch around her as she’d moved to smack Leonie’s lance aside. 

That’s all she had meant to do, knock the lance away and win the match by disarmament. It was meant to be so simple, why could it never be simple? Instead everything was lost in wood shards and then there was blood, goddess, so much blood. 

It wasn’t that Marianne wasn’t used to bloodshed, she’d killed plenty. It was war, that was all there was, especially for someone like her. But this was different, this wasn’t an enemy’s blood she was spilling with her magic, this was an allie’s blood, her friend’s blood, Leonie’s blood! 

This was everything she’d feared would happen. Something would go wrong, because of her, and it would hurt those closest to her and leave her just to watch them suffer. She’d spent so long warning them, trying to get them to understand what she was, and yet they hadn’t listened to her! 

She had set herself even deeper into her own grave by running away. Leonie could be unconscious, bleeding in the middle of the field still for all she knew, and she had run like a coward. Because that’s what she was, at the end of the day. No matter what she was told, she was a threat and a coward. She couldn’t face them. Not after this. They’d see through her, whatever she had done to trick them, they would have to after this. Maybe that was for all the better. 

Crashing is what finally snaps her from the ever spiraling pit of her own thoughts, sending her from one nightmare to the next. 

_“BLOOD! KIN! WHERE?” _The bloodchilling screech called, and a tree no farther than a few dozen yards away shatters on the ground, making Marianne shriek in terror as it’s followed by a monstrous lizard-like beast, sniffing at the air until it seemed to finally hear her, black lifeless eyes turning in her vague direction, followed by another round of sniffing. _“YOU!” _It shrieks at her, rage filling its voice as it starts to trample toward her.____

____Marianne doesn’t think before she starts to run away, fleeing further into the woods as the monster follows, growing ever closer no matter how quickly she tries to move._ _ _ _

_____“DO NOT FLEE! I CAN SMELL YOU, BLOOD!” _The beast calls after her, before she hears another tree smash to the ground.___ _ _ _

______Marianne throws a miasma blast back over her shoulder, but the beast smashes its horn through the bubble of dark energy, popping it like a souffle and sending shreds of dark energy bouncing off of its skin harmlessly._ _ _ _ _ _

______She curses under her breath, turning down a path that she hopes will be too sharp, and slow her pursuer if only for a moment, however as she careens down it, she finds that whatever benefit that turn might have gained her is lost as, while looking over her shoulder, she slams face first into a tree trunk._ _ _ _ _ _

______There are stars dancing in her vision as she tries to get herself up, and she can hear the heavy footsteps that accompany the shuddering of the ground beneath her feet._ _ _ _ _ _

_______“BLOOD...KIN...STRIKE...KILL...TONGUE...SOFT...FLESH...WEAK…” _The beast mutters like an incantation as it approaches. Marianne pushes herself onto shaking feet and sore legs, wondering if this is how she dies as she readies a spell to try and defend herself. If she is to die here, alone in the woods, at least she will die knowing she fought.___ _ _ _ _ _

________Even if her life is meaningless to her, she knows that is what they would want her to do. Ashe, Leonie… they’d want her to fight with all she had._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________“STRIKE… KILL… PAIN…FREEDOM... TONGUE… SOFT… WEAK…FLESH… THICK...TEAR… BURN… REND… “__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Leave me alone!” Marianne shouts, throwing another bolt of energy at her assailant, and yet again, as if in reflex, the horn at the peak of the beast’s head shatters it, and whatever connects with its thick hide does nothing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“NO!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Take a hint, you scaly bitch!” A third voice calls, and a lance finds its way into the massive lizard beast’s cheek, sending its head snapping to the side as Lancealot fills Marianne’s vision, with Leonie sat astride him. Leonie snaps Lancealot’s reigns, and in an instant the horse turns and comes galloping to her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Leonie, you… your head, your clothes, they’re covered in blood.” Marianne stutters out, lost between the shock and adrenaline._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yeah, didn’t have time to get the ‘shining armor’ out. I hope bloodstained leather will do well enough.” Leonie said with her usual cavalier grin. She pulled up beside the woman and offered her hand. Just as Marianne was about to reach up, the monstrous thudding of the lizard beast’s steps shook the ground, making the mercenary and the noblewoman turn to see it charging them, completely unharmed. It remained unharmed even as Ashe seemingly fell from the heavens, her boots digging into its thick hide as she tried to bury her axe in it as well. However to her dismay, the blade bounced off the hide like it would off of stone. The beast flung its head from side to side, as if trying to cast Ashe off like a pest. The only thing that stopped Ashe from being launched into some distant tree was the well-timed arrival of Seteth, who captured Ashe up in her claws and took back to the sky in an instant._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Leonie!” Ashe called as she grabbed a leather strap of Seteth’s saddle, using it to pull herself back up and onto her loyal mount’s back. “I love you but can you please stop hitting on Marianne for FIVE MINUTES and focus on the lizard creature trying to eat her?!” that seemed to snap both of the women on the ground back to their senses, and in a flash Leonie helped Marianne onto Lancelot and took off between the trees._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“For the goddess’s sake, I can do both!” Leonie muttered as they tried to outrun the beast, briefly looking over her shoulder. “Annie, got any idea what this thing is?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I… I have a clue. Yes.” Marianne said, dejected as the lizard creature kept up with the mount surprisingly well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Well spill it! We don’t have time for the vague game!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I… I think that’s my ancestor. I think that is Maurice, the progenitor of my crest.” Marianne said, as she saw the beast tear a tree from the ground, roots and all, instead of moving out of its way._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Wait, Maurice?! As in ‘unpiercable skin, impervious to magic, main master of wrecking anything and everything of Seiros’s war’ Maurice?!” Leonie asked, looking over her shoulder to see Marianne’s meak nod in reply. “Wonderful. Just… Just fucking wonderful!” Leonie yelled, seeming to catch Ashe’s attention._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You two ok down there?!” She called from Seteth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“YEAH! We’re just peachy! Trying to outrun a 700-year old crest beast! Yay!” Leonie screamed back at her partner._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“This sounds really bad.” Ashe said, trying to think._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“YOU DON”T FUCKING SAY!” Leonie called back. “Got any ideas, babydoll?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yeah! Hook a right the next chance you get. Let’s try and lead it back toward the campus. Hopefully if we get a few more people here we can kill it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Sounds good to me!” Leonie calls, dropping her hips and grasping tighter to the reins. “Annie, please don’t take this as a come on, but you’re going to want to hold on.” Marianne nodded, wrapping her arms around Leonie as they flew around a tree, nearly careening into another one as they tried to steer the beast back toward Garreg Mach._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“NO… FLESH, THICK...TONGUE...SOFT. STRIKE, KILL, STRIKE, PAIN!” Maurice called out as he followed them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Goddess, protect them.” Marianne pleaded into the leather of Leonie’s jacket as she looked between her and Ashe._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Leonie wrapped her arm in Lancelot’s reins, pushing up on her stirrups and digging her heels into the horse’s side to prod him along even faster, her free arm reaching down and retrieving her lance. Ashe tried to shoot the beast in the eye with her bow, but her aim as ever was not to be envied, and the arrow bounced off of the creature’s forehead._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Maurice lashed out with his claw, trying to swipe out Lancealot’s legs from the looks of it. But with a flick of her wrist, Leonie sent him out of Maurice’s path, laughing as she turned to boast at the creature’s failure. “Missed me you scaly fu-” only to have her world fill with stars as she felt the vague sensation of falling followed swiftly by pain in the back of her head, and the thud of her body hitting the ground._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She had failed to see, but thoroughly succeeded in running right into, the large limb jutting out into their path from one of the trees lining their route, and as such was now dazed and injured on the ground._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“FOOL!” Maurice screeched, his clawed foot slamming down onto Leonie’s midsection. “DO NOT RUN, MY BLOOD!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Get off of her!” Ashe shouted as Seteth dropped in between the trees, Ashe clinging to her saddle as she swung her axe at Maurice. Yet again, his eye evaded her as Maurice thrashed his head to her side, swatting Seteth and Ashe from the air and sending them tumbling to the ground. Leonie thought with the shift in his weight, she could escape from under Maurice, but before she could even move he slammed back down, crushing her again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Fools! DO NO FLEE ME!” Maurice screeched as he surveyed the treeline, only to feel a subtle heat on his cheek, as he realized a fireball had been hurled into his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Leave them out of this!” Marianne shouted, launching another bolt of flames that seemed to do nothing to her monstrous ancestor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“THEN DO NOT FLEE! BLOOD DOES NOT ABANDON BLOOD!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What do you want from me?!” Marianne asked, another likely-useless spell readying in her hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Her ancestor just looked at her through glassy black eyes as the woods around them seemed to come alive with the sounds of someone approaching, and as their allies began to burst through the treeline, he let one word escape his scaled maw. “HELP.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________An arrow slammed into the side of Maurice’s face, bursting into a storm of lightning and splinters, and the beast threw his head aside, bellowing in the direction it had come from as another arrow slammed into his forehead, seemingly doing little more than aggravating him further._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Step away from our comrades!” Petra ordered from atop Pyrois, Bernadetta on one side of her while Dorothea stood between them. As both archers drew new arrows, they took a moment to present them to the songstress, who with nothing but an incantation and a touch, set one arrow alight with fire as the other sparked with lightning._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Maurice screamed again, his mouth agape until a ball of flame slammed into the other side of his head, when he turned and seemed to do the same in that direction._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Come along now, save us the trouble and die quietly.” Linhardt muttered as he threw another spell._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yeah you big ugly bitch!” Caspar shouted as he charged forward, only to be knocked aside by Maurice’s massive jaw. Thankfully it seemed without the added distance to the ground that Ashe and Seteth had had to deal with, he was in much better shape._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Well, there goes that prospect.” Linhardt groaned as he jogged to his partner, healing spell at the ready._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Marianne watched as every strike sent her ancestor deeper and deeper into his frenzy, and his words rung in her head, until suddenly a candle was lit in her mind, and Marianne readied a spell as she felt a plan fall into place. If his hide was truly as impervious as the legends said, then perhaps his enthusiastic screaming was to their advantage._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Her ancestor turned, looking her down as she saw him open his maw in a pained scream. The spell in her hands left, and as if in slow motion Marianne watched it drift across the air, passing by Maurice’s teeth, colliding with his tongue and bursting into a flash of electricity so bright that the entirety of the strike force was forced to look away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The halls of the administrative building at the heart of Garreg Mach echoed with the sounds of Emil’s footsteps as he made his way toward the small meeting room tucked away in the corner of one hallway on the third floor. Emil felt his heart hitch as he saw the door hanging open, and a flash of cream-colored fabric and tanned leather._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He could do this. He needed to. He had avoided his sister for too long, and this was just one step on the long walk to try and repair what little was left of their family. He had slain entire armies of men with nothing but a broken scythe in the past, he could sit through one simple dinner with his sister and her partner._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Goddess, what was her name again? Oh, yes, Flayn._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Why did that name strike him as so damned familiar._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Emil!” Mercedes called, walking out of the room to greet him. He hadn’t realized he was still walking, he’d been so lost in his thought. “Thank you so much for being here.” Mercedes continued, wrapping her brother in a hug._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Of course, Mercedes. I apologize if I’m late. I’m not used to this floor of the building.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh! Yes, well we didn’t think it was quite as personal to dine down in the main dining room at the same time as everyone else, so we found a spare room and cooked what we could before the cooks began preparing for dinner. Everything should still be plenty warm, however. I’m just excited for you to meet Flayn!” Mercedes beamed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I am as well. Where is this young lady?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Ah, well, ‘young’ might not exactly be the most appropriate term, but here, let me introduce you!” Before Emil could ask exactly what Mercedes had meant by her comment, he was being dragged into the room, where he felt his heart drop as he laid eyes on a woman with massive green curls, who he now remembered quite well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Flayn, I’d like to introduce you to my brother, Emil.” Mercedes said, gesturing in the vague direction of the man in question. Flayn’s eyes were wide as she looked at him, seemingly confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Uhhh, hi!” Flayn said, standing from her seat and walking over, offering her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Ahem, and, Um, you as well, Lady Flayn.” Emil said, taking the hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You know, you look weirdly familiar. I could’ve sworn I’ve met you before…” Flayn thought aloud, looking him up and down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Well, yes I suppose that might be…” Emil began, only for Flayn’s eyes to light up as she snapped in realization._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I remember now! You were the weird skull knight that kidnapped me back in school!” Flayn said, looking relieved._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I’m sorry, what?!” Mercedes choked out, looking between her partner and brother._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh my goodness, I’m so glad I figured that out. I knew that was going to bother me all day if I didn’t. Yeah, no, your brother was the person who kidnapped me and like, stole my blood. ” Flayn said, somehow smiling._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Ah, yes… I do suppose that… apologies are in order for all of that, Lady Flayn.” Emil said, about to bow and try his best at an apology when he saw Flayn’s shoes turn, and soon enough they and Mercedes’ shoes were moving toward the dinner table._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh, it’s no bother, thanks for the thought, though! Come on, the dinner is gonna be cold.” Flayn said, and Emil watched as she dragged a rather dumbfounded Mercedes behind her. She and Emil exchanged quick glances of ‘what in the everloving hell is going on’, but Emil followed soon enough, and sat at the unoccupied chair only to be handed an already arranged plate._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I… Angel, are you feeling well?” Mercedes asked, seeing Flayn take a massive bite from her plate of fish. The former saint took a moment to swallow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Of course, my love, why would I not be?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I… You just said my brother kidnapped you, and now you’re just… eating fish as if nothing has happened.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I mean, yes that’s true, but that was years ago. Besides, far worse things have happened to me since then.” Flayn said offhandedly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Flayn!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What?! It’s true. Besides, had he not kidnapped me, I might never have joined the lions, and never met you.” Flayn said, reaching across the table and taking Mercedes’ hand in her own. “And sincerely, being kidnapped is not even close to the top of the list for most horrifying things I’ve been through, and I’m not one to hold grudges.” Flayn said, and yet again Mercedes was left simply dumbfounded, looking between her partner and brother as Emil shrugged, saying a quiet thank you as he took a bite of his own food. “So, Emil, what was Mercedes like when you all were younger?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“As doting and protective as it appears she has remained to this day.” Emil said after finishing his bite._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Really? Oh my goodness, she must have been so cute! Tell me everything.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Um… I will admit my memory of our youth is… less than pleasant at many points. But I do remember once when I was young we were out playing in a field near the local church, and I had thought it wise to attempt to climb the steeple, only for poor Mercedes to come and find me after I had somehow managed to get my finger stuck in-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Flayn! Mercedes!” Petra shouted as she burst through the door. “Thank goodness you two are here. We have need of you both in the medical hall! Marianne, Leonie and Ashe were attacked, the others are on their way with them but they’re badly injured and the others sent me ahead to find you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh thank the goddess, something that actually makes sense.” Mercedes whispered to herself and she threw her napkin onto the table beside her completely untouched plate. “I’m sorry, brother, but I promise we can resume our meal some other time. Take care, and know that I love you. Lead the way, Petra.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I’m right behind you!” Flayn shouted though a half-full mouth of food, quickly wiping her mouth with her napkin and swallowing as she stood. “Sir Emil, I thank you so much for joining us, please don’t be a stranger. I haven’t had any chances to find any of Mercedes’ embarrassing stories, and I want to hear everything you have.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Ok then.” Emil said as Flayn scampered out the door, leaving him to deal with the rather large mess their meal had left behind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Mercedes stormed into the medical wing, and began readying for the oncoming emergency. Manuela was already prepared, her sleeves rolled and a small belt of vulneraries and other healing items at the ready. Mercedes was just finishing rolling the sleeves of her dress up to her elbows when the doors burst open again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The first two through were Catherine and Ashe, who was at that moment clutching her stomach with one arm as the other was thrown over top of Catherine’s shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“On the third cot, there.” Mercedes gestured to where she meant and Catherine moved to lay her comrade down. A second later, the doors swung in again and Mercedes saw Edelgard and Dorothea carrying Leonie in on what appeared to be a crude stretcher made of two lances and several large branches tied with strips of red and blue fabric, and as Marianne walked in wearing a clearly torn dress, and Edelgard’s attire seemed to be in similar conditions, it started to piece itself together. Mercedes ordered for her to be placed in the cot next to Ashe._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What happened to them?” Manuela asked, looking Edelgard directly in the eye._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“There was a beast in the woods, it attacked them. Leonie was crushed under its foot and Ashe was knocked out of the sky and hit the ground, hard.” Edelgard recounted. “I think Leonie’s ribcage, and her pelvis is shattered, and from my best guess, Ashe has several broken ribs, a broken radius, a shattered ankle, and internal bleeding.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Ok, Flayn and I will take care of Leonie, as she seems in the most critical condition. Mercedes, you and Edelgard see what can be done about Ashe’s injuries.” Manuela ordered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Understood.” Mercedes said, already moving to help the Emperor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It was about then that the doors swung in a third time, this time to reveal a haggard and exhausted looking Caspar and an equally worn down Ferdinand, each of them on one side of a man with ragged, matted blue hair and eyes that were wide and unfocused in a way that could only be described as rabid._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“No! No! You won’t bring me back here! I’ll kill her before I kneel again! I’ll kill the autocratic bitch for what she did to me! Unhand me you traitorous swine!” The man shouted in a hoarse, broken whisper. He seemed to be trying to struggle, but his movements were awkward and disjointed, as if they were the flails of a newborn unused to their limbs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh for the goddess’s sake.” Manuela exclaimed. “Strap him down, now! I have enough to deal with without… who in the hell even is that?!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Long… Story” Caspar exclaimed as they threw the man down onto a cot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“We don’t have time.” Manuela muttered, waving her hand in a flash of white light, and in an instant the man went limp on the cot, his ragged breathing being the only sign he was still alive._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh so that’s what it’s like to see that _not _from the receiving end.” Catherine muttered under her breath.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Catherine, can you please stop babbling to yourself like a crazy person and help me!?” Edelgard called, dodging out of the way of Ashe’s un-injured hand as she seemed to mindlessly flail at the healer. Catherine held the girl down as Edelgard continued working on her other arm, the silver haired archer having passed out from the pain some time ago, she would occasionally regain consciousness only enough to try and flail at what she perceived as the source of her pain, but each time that happened, Catherine was there._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“It’s ok, kiddo, I got you. You’re going to be ok.” Catherine tried to reassure Ashe as she screamed from the feeling of her bones sliding against each other back into place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Marianne stayed, stood in the corner of the room in utter horror as she heard the various groans and shouts from the two patients, each new sound ringing the same in her head, ‘this is all because of you’. Over and over, as she saw their bones magically slid back into place, their wounds stitched back together, their screams and cries and anguish, all she could think was this is what they’d suffered because of her. Because of him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The man, the feral man with blue hair and tattered rags of clothes, had been all that was left after she’d hit the crest beast in the tongue with her flames. There had been such a brilliant flash, and when it was done he was there, lying where the beast had been. She knew who he must be. How he had lived that long, she had no idea, but if the sword that had been lying beside him that was now clutched in her hands was any indication, it was impossible to deny. It was Maurice, her ancestor, the progenitor of their family’s crest, of their curse, of her cursed life, and now of her friend’s and comrade’s pain._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She wanted to throttle him, to bury the blade in his chest and damn him for all he’d put her family through, and now Leonie and Ashe as well. But she knew she couldn’t. Not yet. She had to know first, had to know why. Why had he hunted her, why had he tried to kill the people she cared for?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She needed to leave. That much she knew. But still, when she turned and moved for the door, she heard a faint whisper that stopped her in her tracks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Annie…” It was Leonie._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Miss Pinelli, please do not try and speak. Your ribs are brittle enough as is._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Annie, where are you going? Come back...please?” Leonie whispered out again, and when their eyes met, Marianne saw that she was crying. The blade clattered to the ground as Marianne began moving to one side of the cot that was unoccupied. There was a grunt of pain, and Marianne felt Leonie grab her hand, practically crushing it in her grip. “Is… Is Ashe ok?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Yes. She… she only had a few broken bones. They’re almost done with her, I think.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“That’s good… Annie… I’m scared.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Miss Pinelli, you need to stop talking!” Manuela ordered again, snapping the girl’s shoulder back into place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Annie… please, don’t go.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I… I promise. I’ll stay right here. But you need to listen to Manuela.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“When have I ever been good… at doing what I’m told?” Leonie let out a weak chuckle. “Oh fuck… laughing… bad idea.” and with that, it seemed to all become too much, and Leonie slipped back into unconsciousness, Marianne’s hand in her own, still trapped in an iron grip._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________When everything that could be done was, and the others slowly poured out of the room, Marianne stayed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________As the sun disappeared completely from the sky, she had moved to get a chair, only to feel a slight tug on her hand, and another tug later she realized what Leonie, in her half-conscious state, was trying to ask._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She crawled into the cot beside Leonie, and as she fell asleep, she heard the steady beat of Leonie’s heart in her chest, and let the rhythm lul her into the peace of sleep, a reminder that she was still alive, still there, and that she still wanted her there as well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________But Marianne for the life of her couldn’t tell why._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Hope this week's update was fun, in an angsty sort of way!! I'm trying to build a bit more backlog, but for now i'm gonna keep up these weekly mini-posts. If anyone is interested in the side project i mentioned, check out my fics for "Life's a Mess", a polyship fic about Leonie, Marianne and Ingrid having to deal with Ingrid's shit family. It's sweet, I swear!!!


	40. Apologies, 1 month hiatus.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, i'm really really sorry but I'm gonna have to take a month away from writing this fic. The next full update of Broken Smiles, Broken Teeth will be on the 14th of December, 2020, and I promise this isn't this fic going into a "Hellatus" that it never returns from. Broken smiles WILL be returning in one month's time.

Hey y'all. I'm sorry to do this on update day, and I really did want to post at least some content here to not just make this a total let down, but I wasn't able to proofread anything well enough to think posting it will be a good idea. For those of you who want the short and sweet of it, I'm putting this fic on a singular month long hiatus while I rebuild this fic's backstock of writing. This hiatus is not permanent and will not slip into one of those "hellatuses" that I know anyone who enjoys fanfic and webcomics have come to absolutely loath, and updates will resume on a bi-weekly basis (depending on situation potentially weekly) on december 14th, 2020. 

For those of you who want to know more, the past few months I've been finishing up my degree at school and part of that was a clinical program including 200 hours of night shifts, around the time I started those was when the mini-updates started, and since that wrapped up i've had to go back to my regular hours at my current place of employement that is basically crumbling around all us employees as we speak. I have been hella exhausted between work and school, and I feel like some of this fic has suffered for it. This upcoming portion centering around the Masquerade ball is a part that I really don't want to rush and not do perfectly, and as such i'm officially stepping back to write for a month so I can make this upcoming piece and the rest of the fic to a level of quality I think it deserves, and that y'all as readers deserve. I hate that I have to do this, because I know as a reader of fic myself I HATE hiatuses cus they always feel like a 'well thats never coming back' moment, but please know that yes, in fact, this fic will be coming back. Thank you so much to my regular readers, and anyone who has given this obscenely long self indulgent mess of a fic the time it would take to get this far. I hope you know y'all's comments are some of the things that have kept me committed to actually writing this fic, and that I promise allllll that work will be worth it once we reach the end of it.

I'll see you all on the 14th of December, and again I am so sorry to have to do this.


	41. Chapter 32:Unholy Confessions part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do we have any idea who it could be?” Edelgard pushed. 
> 
> “No. Nothing. I scoured the guest list, and I’ve not seen a one who matches the description Dorothea gave. You’re certain you told me everything Dorothea had said?” Hubert asked. 
> 
> “Of course, Brother. A tall blonde man with his hair greased back, a goatee and a scar over his left cheek.” Edelgard recited again. However, while Catherine had been more focused on keeping an eye for the missing monster, she hadn’t heard her say it the first time Hubert had asked. 
> 
> ‘Princess, did you say he had a-” Catherine began, only to be cut off as Edelgard was already signalling Ashe and Leonie to come over to them. 
> 
> “Yeah, Edelgard?” Leonie asked, stepping out of the crowd, dragging Ashe behind her. 
> 
> “Have you seen anything of Arundel?” Edelgard asked, looking around. 
> 
> “No, nothing. Dude is a fucking ghost.” Leonie said plainly. 
> 
> “Oh believe you me, he’s far worse. What about a tall blonde, with face scars?” Edelgard asked, not seeming to understand why Ashe and Leonie looked at eachother, confused. “What?!” 
> 
> “You mean besides your date?” Ashe asked, pointing to Catherine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT"S RIGHT MOTHERFUCKERS> WE ARE BACK. 
> 
> I told y'all i'd have an update for you today, didn't I? And I intend to keep my promises. But yes, I'm officially off Hiatus, and back in the writing chair. I hope everyone had a good-or well at least not shit- time while I was away, and Thank you all so so much who left comments supporting my hiatus, it really was a hard decision for me to make, and i'm glad that I did it because I've been feeling so refreshed and can't wait to get more writing done. That being said, I'm going to take two weeks between now and the next update, to see how much I'm able to get done, and based on that I'll decide officially about whether to return for weekly updates, or for twice monthly updates. 
> 
> But yes! Enjoy! I hope the content today was worth the weight, I really think y'all are gonna like it.

It couldn’t have been later than 8 in the morning when Marianne walked in to the medical ward of the Monastery. Her steps were tentative and nervous, but they stopped dead when she saw both of the cots where Ashe and Leonie had been were now empty. There was a visible sag in her shoulders, but as she turned to leave a wrench was thrown into her plan when she saw the shaggy, blue-haired man leaned against the wall behind his cot, still chained in place. He was looking at her, curious and unsure, but when their eyes met for just a moment, both of them looked away. 

“I… You’re ‘Marianne’, aren’t you?” The man in the cot said as he kept his eyes on the ground. 

“Yes.” She said after a hesitant pause, her brow furrowing and nose scrunching in suspicion. “How do you know that?” 

“Your friends, the ones that were in here-” 

“You mean the two that you put in here by nearly crushing them to death while rampaging around trying to hunt me?” Marianne interrupted, the anger in her bubbling out before she could even hesitate to speak. 

“I, um, well... Yes, them...They talk about you an awful lot. They seem to care for you quite a bit” He stuttered out, and Marianne tried to hide her blush. “I… I’m Maurice.” 

“I know who you are.” Marianne’s response this time held less rage, coming out simply flat and affectless, but it seemed to strike Maurice just as much as her first outburst. . 

“I suppose that makes sense… I’ve been disconnected from the ‘family tree’ for quite some time now, but I suppose there must be some record of me, so finding my name ought to have been easy enough.” 

“‘Some’ record?” Marianne said, incredulous. “The record of you might as well be a chain around our family’s throat, how tightly it clings to us. I’ve never been allowed to forget for a day that you’re a member of my bloodline. Given the fact you were carrying a blade last seen in the possession of Maurice prior to his damnation by the goddess, I’d say that deducing your identity was less than complex.” 

“I… damnation? What are you talking about?” Maurice’s words came out confused and disoriented. 

“Yes, I said damnation. Our best record has it marked you were banished from the church and marked officially damned by the Goddess for attempting to destroy the church.” There was a second after Marianne clarified where Maurice looked absolutely horrified, and after a moment he seemed to almost be laughing. That laugh turned in slow increments into a desperate, violent cackle, until it seemed he’d lost the humor of it all. 

“Of course that pretentious tyrant would be so dramatic about it.” He sighed,eyes holding firm to the ground, flicking up to meet Marianne’s every-so-often. “Sadly, it was, well it was something much less theatrical that earned me my… punishment.” Marianne, aggainst all of what felt like her better judgement, wanted to know more. Perhaps somewhere inside of her she wanted to believe her family hadn’t deserved their damnation, or perhaps just out of sheer amazement at the fact that Maurice seemed to be...like her, she found herself pulling a chair to his cot and sitting, once settled in, she spoke again. 

“Well, what happened then?” 

He let out a sigh and sat up from against the wall, the thumb of one hand rubbing along the palm of the other. “I...Well, if you really want to know, I suppose you have every right to. I’m not sure what that scaly dictator has allowed to stay on the records, but please just tell me if you need me to clarify.” 

She nodded and he continued on. “One of your friends, the tall orange haired one with the talent for swearing, told me the date, and while I still am uncertain of if I believe her, if she was telling the truth it means that all of this occurred over a millenia ago. There was a brutal, vicious war against a warlord named Nemesis who had wanted to try and plunge Fodlan into chaos under an iron heel. The war was initiated by the first emperor of Adrestia, Wilhelm, and the four saints, Cethleann, Macuil, Indech, and... Cichol.” Maurice’s words seemed to clutch onto the last name, and so Marianne let him find his words. “But, when William died, the saints knew they needed more assistance… so they came to us.” 

“The Ten Elites…” Marianne recited from her lessons in school. 

“Of course, Seiros would choose such a pompous name.” Maurice muttered. “But yes, there were ten of us. Mostly the commanders of militia units that had thus far managed to hold their own in the war. I myself was chosen because my village had been using the cold to keep Nemesis' men at bay, and striking when they were weakest. The others weren’t fond of me, but my people had nearly twice as many victories as several of them combined, so they had little choice. The saints granted us these gifts, weapons and powers we never thought possible… and after several more decades, we finally won. Something in the magic of the saints kept us alive well past when we should have… I think I'm the best example of that. But, for some reason, the Emperor didn’t have that same luck. Wilhelm and Lycaon, his son, both died. But once Lycaon had died, there was enough territory under our control that we were able to finally call an end to the war. I always found it odd how long we continued to fight even after Nemesis had died, nearly another decade. Those were some of the hardest years. Cethleanne fell ill not long after Nemesis was vanquished… I think somewhere, deep down inside of me I always knew it was because Seiros didn’t trust Lycaon to side with her once things settled and we actually had to build a nation.`` 

“What do you mean, ‘side with her’?” Marianne asked. 

“Well… It’s easier to unite people against something than unite them in favor of something else… Our ‘ten elites’ and the saints were no different.There were two groups, those who wanted to establish the Empire, and let it and the church guide Fodlan into a future of sunshine and rainbows and theocratic dictatorship.” Maurice spat his words with such venom Marianne found herself taken aback. “Then there were some of us with more, perhaps it’s best to call it ‘diverse’ ideas of what should come when the dust was settled. Those two dare-i-call-them ‘factions’ were led primarily by Seiros, and Cichol, respectively… The arguments between those two would go on for hours and hours.” Maurice’s tone seemed to soften as he spoke on, scratching at his scalp.   
“Cichol held such passion for helping those at their lowest, and whenever he saw something that might threaten those most downtrodden, he’d raise hell or high water to see it overturned. I once saw him throw a table aside during a meeting because the topic had become planning diplomatic missions when we’d just been struck by an absolutely brutal famine. But, for several years after the war ended, we held that balance, between those who wanted an empire and church leading hand-in-hand, and those of us who wanted everything from simply a monarchy free of the church, to ideas of doing away with them both entirely.” As fast a duck shot down by an arrow, the corners of Maurice’s lips dropped.   
“And then… after nearly a decade, the balance shifted. First, I noticed Cichol became more quiet in meetings, things that before would had left him pacing around his bedchamber ranting for hours into the night, if not into a fit of rage then and there, he just ignored them. Then after another year or two he began to support them. All the while, he became distant from everyone around him, even his closest people… he just pushed away. After some time of this, others began doing similar, until then it was just me left trying to fight for everything we’d lost so much for.” 

“I… I have to admit, that was not what I had expected.” Marianne muttered, still wary of this stranger, however distantly related he may be, that had hurt the people she cared for. “But, there seems to be quite a bit missing. How did you end up like… you were, out in the woods? Why were you trying to kill me, nearly killing my friends in the process?” 

“I’m getting to that. Or well, I’m already there I suppose… There wasn’t much to it, to be frank. It started as any other meeting did in those days, us all gathering together from our various districts and counties, rattling off choice after choice, then it was the smallest little thing. It was around when this very monastery was first having its plans drafted. Seiros had neglected to mention, aside from a brief note on one page of the plans, the several thousand pounds of gold she intended to waste of vain statues of the four saints.   
I waited and waited for Cichol to say something but he didn’t. He just looked at the floor and refused to even acknowledge me… I don’t know why he’d become what he had, but he wasn’t the Cichol I’d known. He had changed after his daughter fell ill and into a sleep none of the best healers could wake her from. I had thought for a while maybe those years of watching after his daughter had taken a toll on him, but… he just seemed like all the fight, all of the life and joy that had made him who he was had been drained from him. There was nothing of my Cichol left in that hollow husk, and I said as much.   
I have never been one for conflict-” That made Marianne do something between a scoff and a chuckle. “At least never one for verbal conflict. It was never my strong suit, wordcraft. But I stood right then and there, and told Seiros and Cichol both where they could put their church and their vanity projects, and that they wouldn’t get an ounce of gold from me or my county to put toward such waste. I made one or two choice comments about not having enough gold in the world to make a statue that could properly show the scale of Seiros’s ego, and stormed off… I hadn’t even made it to the door when I felt her magic hit me. It wasn’t much, a draining blast… but when it surprises you even that is enough to knock one onto their knees. After that, I felt her fingers graze my neck, and I knew I wasn’t going to win.”

He went quiet for some time, and as it progressed Marianne could see him pulling into himself, his legs moving up onto the cot with him, his hands now resting in his lap. “I awoke in the forests of Fodlan, every nerve screaming in pain, unable to calm it and thus myself. The world was always too much, even in the darkest pitch black of the most silent and starless nights. I couldn’t find myself, couldn’t understand where I was… All I knew was I needed to find some way to free myself, but there’s only one thing that frees one from Seiros’ grip, pain. Not just perceived pain, like what Seiros had tricked my mind to feel, genuine destruction of some part of the body.   
But, given in my beast form I have a skull thicker than most plate steel and skin tough enough that… well you saw just how difficult it was to harm me in that state. The only thing I could grasp onto was the smell of familiar blood, my blood, coursing through someone else’s veins. I had hoped someone of my kin might have the same gift as I, and be able to put up a fight enough to free me from my curse, but no one ever did… they all just ran, and left me behind screaming for their mercy, screaming for help.” Maurice’s eyes filled with tears as he spoke, and he pulled his legs closer to him, wrapping his arms around himself. “In that form, in the state of mind I was in, I could barely see where I was going let alone understand it. Most of it was running on pure instinct... run, dodge, survive, chase… I didn’t want to hurt anyone… I just needed help.” 

Marianne sat there, as she saw the tears on this disheveled, thousand-year-old-man’s cheeks, and began to realize that he was in fact being genuine about his sorrow. If he was being truthful, he had done nothing to deserve his expulsion then stand for a fairly modest point, and she was left trying to process what that could mean for everything she had learned over her life about her family, her ancestry, and herself. After some time, she reached across the space between them, offering a hand to him. It took time, but eventually he reached out and took it. 

“I… That sounds very dreadful to have to have gone through… I’m sorry for being so curt with you earlier.” She said, the words not quite feeling right, but closer than just staying quiet. 

“I… thank you.” He said, squeezing her hand and feeling it be returned. He seemed to open up a bit, legs returning to simply laying crossed instead of pulled against him. After a while of quiet, he spoke again. “I’m sorry, truly, for the pain I inflicted on you and your lovers. I never intended for that, though I know that does little to abate the harm I did.” Marianne would have tried to say something reassuring to him at that point, but found herself a bit too busy blushing furious, stuttering and sputtering to choke out a response before her mind had even processed the words. 

“I, excuse me, Leonie and Ashe are not my...that!” Marianne finally managed to get out. There was a look of genuine confusion on Maurice’s face, as he quirked a brow at her. 

“Are you certain?” 

“Yes! I think I’d be rather aware of that were it the case!” Marianne shouted, losing control of her volume as she became more agitated. “They’re my comrades, and… good friends, but they’re not that!” 

“I... ok, I see where that might have seemed strange to ask, I simply meant… well they spoke of you quite often, and so fondly, and I’d seen you sleeping in the loud, swearing one’s cot that first night, so I had assumed-” 

“Well!” Marianne began, pausing and trying to regain herself. “Well you assumed wrong.” She stated with as much certainty as she could, hoping to set the record with certainty. 

“Ah, my apologies.” Maurice said, appearing more convinced then he really was. 

“It… It’s fine.” Marianne let out a sigh and looked back at the cots where Leonie and Ashe had been. “I had thought they weren’t meant to discharge until this afternoon…” 

“They weren’t meant to, if the one tall blonde woman, -” 

“Mercedes?” 

“Is she the one with the shawl?” 

“Yes, that’s Mercy.” 

“Well, ‘Mercy’ had tried to keep them in their cots for a few more hours, but they seemed to be on a warpath and I’m quite certain it would’ve taken an act of divinity to stop them. They absolutely tore their way out of here.” Maurice said, as if it was funny. 

“Oh… did they say what for?” 

“Not that I heard, but they were huddled up, chattering amongst themselves for quite some time, and I heard your name more than a few times.” 

“Oh…” Marianne felt as if the world beneath her had shattered, and left her freefalling. What could they have left for? Why were they talking about her? Goddess, there could be a million reasons, and none of them were good. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Maurice’s voice was that of a man walking on eggshells. 

“No… no you’re fine…I… I think I need to go.” Marianne moved from her chair, and left it there as she walked out of the medical ward. Her mind is abuzz with a million thoughts, none of them pleasant. 

They hated her, that had to be it. What else could there be to it. Hushed mutterings together when they were in the cots for injuries they only had because she had drawn them into danger. First by her running off, scared and sobbing like some child, and second simply by being around them, when her blood had attracted the beastly form of her ancestor. He had been little more than a panicking mess when he’d found them, so that meant even more of the blame fell to her. They had only ever been there, in the path of danger, because of her. She had nearly gotten them killed so it was only reasonable that they’d be upset. If they left after a long while of muttering something about her, then it was beyond likely that they’d gone off to find her and tell her to stay as far away from them as possible. 

She supposed she couldn’t blame them for it. She knew something like this was bound to happen eventually. 

The early afternoon sun shone down through the cracks in the roof of the Cathedral of Garreg mach, and even as a cool breeze blew into the old stone corpse of the once lively building, Mercedes was kept warm by the heat from that light. Her limbs were still heavy with the weight from the drain of healing Ashe and Leonie several days prior, and even as she felt the goddess’s grace fill her with the familiar buzzing energy her prayers always had, it still wasn’t quite enough to fully rid her of that weight. 

“May… May I join you?” Mercedes heard from behind her, turning to see, in all her nervous and uncertain glory, her former classmate Ingrid stood at the foot of the steps leading up to her. 

“I don’t see any way or reason to stop you.” Mercedes said, patting the ground beside her. 

“Really?” Ingrid asked, taking a step up toward her, shocked she wasn’t being sent away. “I… I don’t mean to be rude.” 

“That hasn’t seemed to stop you before.” Mercedes’ smile makes Ingrid confused if she’s being insulted or simply taunted. 

“I… I feel as if I have done that enough. But why?” Ingrid asks, now positioned midway up the stairs, standing about even with Mercedes’ eyes. 

“Oh, don’t mistake me, Ingrid. I am far from having forgiven you. You accused me of keeping the woman I love as some twisted prisoner of war and sex slave. Had I not spent almost a year as your ally and classmate, and if I was not keenly aware of what exactly the kingdom is like to women like us, I would tell you to burn in hell and send you away for fear I might send you there personally.” Whether it was simple shame at her earlier accusations against Mercedes, or shock at being damned by what had been one of her most pious classmates that made Ingrid flinch, neither knew, but flinch Ingrid did all the same. “But… I do know how our former homeland is, and I know that you’re not completely without hope. You’re close, but not any more than I ever was.” 

“I… Thank you?” Ingrid tried to reply confidently, kneeling down beside Mercedes. She seemed to look at the woman for quite some time, not even feigning to look at the altar until after she spoke again. “You… You really have changed, haven’t you Mercy?” 

“We all have. This war has made more than sure of that. Nothing escapes change, not myself, nor you...not even the Cathedral.” Mercedes gestures to the stone around them, the small piles of rubble scattered around the building, all of it.

“The Cathedral isn’t changed, Mercedes, it’s broken. There’s a difference.” Ingrid mumbled, finally letting herself look toward the altar and bow her head. 

“Perhaps that’s true. Perhaps it will never be as it once was, even if we found every lost stone and put it in its exact place. But just because it will never be the same doesn’t mean it can never be something grand. All one has to do is try and put in the work to rebuild it.” 

“Ah, yes. A bit of wallpaper and some paint, and one could almost forget that this entire building is apt to collapse atop you at any moment.” Ingrid said with a weak, sarcastic chuckle. 

“You mistake me talking of healing and repair for simply furnishing over the cracks.That is quick, simple, and easy. But easily undone at the same time. Repair is something that takes time, effort, and often pain. Repair means not just covering cracks, but filling them, rebuilding around the holes and rubble to ensure that it is sound and secure…” Mercedes looked around her as she spoke, her eyes finally resting on Ingrid. “I think that if someone were to put in the work, this Cathedral, even with all that is cracked in it… could be something truly beautiful.” 

“Do… do you truly think so?” Ingrid asked, looking at the wreckage around her. 

“I do. I think that anything, if given the time and care could be.” Mercedes said, patting her knees before pushing herself to her feet. “I appreciate your conversation, Ingrid, but I’m afraid there is a need for me elsewhere. I am taking young miss Inessa’s daughter and my partner out for a walk around the market.” Mercedes said, turning and walking away. 

“Oh, um… have fun. And Mercy!” Ingrid called after her, making the healer look back over her shoulder. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me just yet. As I said, you’re on thin ice.” Mercedes said, however the kindness in her smile made Ingrid even more confused. Perhaps that was just what Mercy had become, cool word under kind gaze and a razor sharp wit. She was absolutely brilliant, that was all Ingrid knew for certain. 

She turned back to her prayer, finishing it after several minutes, thinking aloud afterward. “I… I suppose I have work to do.” She said, pushing herself up from her knees and moving toward the administrative building. She needed some sturdy work clothes, and probably a few tools, and she had a sneaking suspicion she knew just the woman to ask. The question was if that particular woman would be away from her ‘Princess’ long enough to actually help her. 

Shamir sighed to herself and cracked her knuckles against the wood of Inessa and Sylvia’s door as it drew close to 3 in the afternoon. She thought that was likely enough time, and waiting any longer was more likely to ensure she didn’t arrive at all.Best to just get it over with. 

A few seconds passed, and the door opened to reveal Inessa. She was wearing a blue dress and a headband she’d tied out of an old kerchief of a similar color. Her blonde hair flowing back in loose curls down her shoulders made Shamir’s breath hitch, and she found herself wondering just how soft that dress would feel in her hands, and had to bite her tongue to draw her thoughts back to the present, to reality. 

“Hello, Shamir.” Inessa said, stepping back and gesturing toward the kitchen. “Come in, please.” 

“Oh, um, thank you.” Shamir said, stepping into the apartment and hearing the door click shut. “You… You look lovely.” Shamir noted as she came to a stop at the counter in the kitchen, not quite knowing where else to settle herself. 

“Thank you. Mercedes and Flayn came and took Sylvia to the market a bit early today, so I had some time to relax and clean up a bit.” Inessa moved over to where the pot of remnants from the bird she’d caught seemed to be boiling into a stock. After stirring the pot and adding some seasoning, she settled in on the other side of the counter, where a small mug of either tea or coffee sat on a saucer. Inessa took a sip from the cup and cleared her throat. 

“Well, I’m glad you were able to take some time for yourself, then.” Shamir said, and that seemed to be funny to Inessa, as the younger woman let out a soft chuckle as she set her cup down. 

“In truth, not much of any time this past day has been to myself.” Inessa smiled at Shamir through the clear exhaustion in her eyes. “You have been rather common in my thoughts, for obvious reasons, I suppose.” 

“Ah. Yes, I suppose I could see why. I… My apologies, for that.” Shamir swallowed and yet again something in her words seemed to amuse Inessa more. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You were honest, and I don’t feel that’s anything to apologize for. I prefer it highly to the alternative.” 

“True, but if I had just been more honest from the beginning, then-” 

“I suppose it’s a good thing that we don’t live in the world of ifs, then, isn’t it Shamir?” Inessa cut in.

“I… How do you mean?” Shamir seemed more confused than anything. 

“May I be honest with you, Shamir?” Inessa asked as she stepped closed, just to the edge of what might be called ‘friendly’. Shamir swallowed the lump that had quickly developed in her throat. 

“I see no reason why not.”

“Had I heard you say what you had said to me yesterday earlier, without knowing you as well as I feel I have come to, without seeing you having acted as kindly as you have toward me and my daughter, I fear I would have done what my first instinct was to do last night, and to tell you to kindly leave Sylvia and I be.” Even when she had been expecting it, the words still stung like daggers in Shamir’s chest. “But… I hadn’t. I heard them from you now, or well yesterday. When I’ve seen the way you care for Sylvia, the way you ensure we’ve had supplies enough to continue on, I… I perhaps have become a bit naive, but I don’t believe you’d have done those things if you were merely trying to use us as some stand in for the family you once had. I also realized that, regarding what you had said about guilt… I have found myself feeling something similar about you.” Inessa smiled and tried to find her words.   
“Shamir, it’s been years since I felt safe and genuinely happy. Sylvia has been the shining light in my life, of course, but I’ve worked hard to shield her from so much of the pain that our lives have tried to put on her, and even with all I did I know that she still has nightmares of the room that used to be our ‘home’. In truth, I do too. But when you’re here... I feel safe in a way that I never thought I could again.” Inessa took one more step, her hand brushing the soft, worn leather of Shamir’s jacket. “I know what selfishness looks like, what greed and evil is when it walks in human flesh. Shamir, it does not look like you. Do you think me selfish for saying that I like how I feel when I know you’re here beside me? For wanting to feel that more?” 

Shamir was struck dumb and silent as she tried to process the way that Inessa’s hand was now clinging to her jacket, on top of everything else.

Inessa waited for the scales to tip, one way or another. She knew she was likely being a bit more blunt then this situation needed, but while she may not be as brash as other women in the Monastery, she had spent too much of her life navigating through the emotions of her captors to walk on eggshells anymore. 

“Of course not.” Shamir said, in her best attempt to seem at least somewhat put together.

“Then I’d ask that you quit being such a hypocrite, and extend yourself a bit of that same grace. I’d also rather know if my feelings are returned or not, so I can stop acting like some awestruck schoolgirl with this game of ‘she likes me, she likes me not’ .” Inessa offered a nervous grin, and the way her eyes seemed to gleam with an almost guilty hope behind the wispy wall of stray hairs that escaped her headband made shamir’s heart skip a beat or 10.

“Inessa, may I kiss you?” Shamir asked, making the younger woman chuckle as she nodded in affirmation. A moment later, they leaned into each other, Inessa still clinging to her jacket. Their lips met just a bit too quickly, setting them both off balance, but they held on, both a bit out of practice or unpracticed to begin with. 

They pulled apart, with Inessa beaming from ear to ear while Shamir was doing roughly her equivalent of the same, always being a bit more reserved in her expression. They stayed there, just a bit too close together, until Inessa felt the courage to lean back in. This time, they were prepared as their lips met, Shamir pressing a bit harder and drawing a gasp from Ineesa. They found a rhythm, and Inessa felt Shamir’s hands settle on the edge of the table pressed against her own back, leaving her pleasantly trapped between the shorter mercenary and the counter top. She slid her hands up from the soft green leather to Shamir’s face, feeling the very beginnings of hairs peeking out around the curve of her jaw and along the edge of her chin. It tickled the tips of her fingers, and made her giggle into Shamir’s lips, which is not always something you want to have happen during a ‘first kiss with a woman you’ve been wanting to hold for several months now’, but it felt right. Shamir’s lips curled into a faint smile, even as she pushed deeper into the kiss until Inessa could feel her legs go weak. 

Whenever they did manage to pull apart, it was for seconds at most. What had started as a sign of affection had turned into something cloying in its care but ravenous for more. A nip of her lip, and Shamir felt a shiver down her spine. When she gasped at the feeling, Inessa’s tongue was quick to tease the edge of her lip, as if asking permission that it quickly was granted. Inessa pulled at Shamir as if she were the only thing holding her up, and some time in all of that, Shamir’s hands had found their way to her hips. Inessa’s hands, in turn, slid along her faint, soft jawline and dug into the hair at the back of Shamir’s neck, pulling the mercenary that much deeper into their embrace. 

Shamir felt Inessa’s fingers curl against her scalp, pulling her hair and dragging an unashamedly pleased groan from the shorter woman’s throat, which only made Inessa smile that much wider. Shamir however was not one to be outdone, and with a yelp from her partner in this warm little dance, she lifted Inessa by her hips, setting the woman on her backside on the countertop, pulling her down by the back of her neck to keep the both of them connected at the lips. 

As they settled back into their now-considerably-more-energetic kissing, Shamir’s hands grazed the space just above Inessa’s knees where her skirt ended. Inessa mumbled a half-intelligible affirmation, and felt Shamir’s calloused, work-worn hands through the soft leather of her gloves as they slid up her legs and dug into her thighs, drawing a gasp from her only for Shamir to clutch her even harder, sending shivers like fire down every nerve in her body. 

Inessa finally let go of Shamir’s hair, only to quickly begin tearing at the jacket that not moments ago she’d been desperate to cling to. Soon, the jacket was gone, flung onto the floor somewhere and Inessa was able to clutch at Shamir’s exposed arms and shoulders. She dragged her fingers along the crests and valleys made by the taught, toned muscle of Shamir’s upper arms and shoulder blades, and felt the entire landscape change as Shamir’s hands slid up beneath the fabric of her skirt, now slowly tracing her leather-clad fingers up and down her bare skin in a way that made Inessa shiver and thank the goddess that she was sat on the table, for fear of her knees giving out otherwise. The occasional feeling of Inessa fingernails digging into her back and arms did not seem to bother Shamir in the slightest. 

“Shamir, goddess, you…” In an instant, two sounds hit both women’s ears, one was the sound of a jiggling doorknob behind her, while the other was the sound of water sizzling on the stove top. Inessa went wide eyed as she tried to think of what to do, pushing herself off of the counter, almost tripping over Shamir as the mercenary moved over to the stove-top, where the pot had at some point begun boiling over. As shamir was pulling the pot of stock off of the heat. Inessa had barely enough time to straighten out her dress before the door finally burst open and Sylvia came bursting in, soon followed by Mercedes and Flayn. 

“Hi, mommy!” Sylvia said, giving Inessa a hug. 

“H, hi, sweety.” Inessa managed to stutter out tucking a rather large strand of hair that had escaped her hairband behind her ear. “How was shopping with the girls?” 

“It was fun! Flayn bought a loaf of bread and we had fun throwing it to the fish in the pond.” Sylvia said with pride. 

“Well that sounds very, um, fun!” Inessa patted her daughter on the top of the head. 

“It was!” Sylvia said happily, looking at Shamir as she was plucking bones from the stock with a slotted spoon. “Hi, Shamer!” 

“Hey kid.” Shamir said, clearing her throat as she seemed to get very, very interested in sifting through that pot of stock. 

“What happened to your arms? They’re all scratched!” Sylvia observed, keenly pointing to the red marks down Shamir’s shoulders and arms. 

“I was attacked by a bear while hunting.” Shamir lied. “But don’t worry, I’m fine.” 

“Wow! You’ll have to tell me all about it!” Sylvia said, eyes wide with wonder. Inessa chuckled if only to hide how nervous she was and nudged Sylvia toward her room. 

“Sylvia, Dinner will be soon, why don’t you go clean up.” Inessa said, trying to just find a way to end that conversation before Sylvia thought to ask about why Shamir’s jacket was in a clump on the floor in the middle of the apartment.

“Awwwwe, ok, fiiiine.” Sylvia grumbled, walking toward the bedroom, which was really just the section of the singular room besides the bathroom in the barrack marked off with one large curtain separating it from the rest of the main space, and then another splitting it between Inessa’s space and Sylvia’s, even if Sylvia slept in the same bed as Inessa more often than not.

But, the young girl disappeared behind the curtain, and Inessa felt like a mountain had lifted off of her shoulders. 

“So, a bear attack, hmm?” Mercedes asked, smiling with an evil glint of feigned coyness. “Those look rather small to be bear claws.” 

“It was a very small bear.” Shamir said, utterly unreadable in her monotone.

“Are you sure? Bears are rather rare here.” Mercedes began. “Cougars, on the other hand-”

“T.thank you both for taking her with you, I know she always appreciates the time out of the house.” Inessa interrupted, feeling her cheeks burn as she just prayed this embarrassing moment would end. 

Flayn grinned at her, only slightly less teasing then her partner. “Of course! We’re always happy to bring her along.” 

“I really do appreciate it, she just adores the both of you.” Inessa said, and in the background she heard shamir dumping the vegetables and meat from the day before into the broth, seasoning as Inessa wished she could copy her unreadable poker-face. 

“It really is nothing at all, Inessa. She’s an absolute dear.” Mercedes said, gesturing to the basket of produce in her hands. “We would love to stay and… chat, but we ought to get this all put away, and it seems you all have quite a bit of cooking left before supper is ready.” 

“Of course! Please, don’t let us keep you longer than we should.” Inessa sputtered out. 

“We won’t! Bye! Have a fun night!” Flayn said as she walked out of the apartment. 

“But not too much fun.” Mercedes began as she waved over her shoulder, pausing at the door and turning to add. “And if you both ever need time for… chores and cooking and such, never hesitate to find us. We’d be happy to entertain Sylvia in the medical wing.” Inessa felt her face burn even brighter as Mercedes turned and left. “Goodbye, and congratulations.” 

For a half of a second, Inessa just tried to not keel over from embarrassment alone, Shamir let out a chuckle. 

“I… I know this is a rather silly thing to be upset about, but bear attack? Really?” Inessa asked after checking that Sylvia was still in her ‘room’. Shamir just shrugged, walking away from the pot to pluck her jacket off the floor, taking a moment on her way back to the pot to give Inessa a peck on the cheek. 

“Cat,” Edelgard called over her shoulder, seeing Catherine fixing her hair, again, in the mirror. “Baby, you look fine, can you come help me with this?” She asked, gesturing to her dress. It hung to the floor,similar to her usual war-attire did, with the heavy leather, steel and wool of that replaced with lace and satin and silk, all laid over well-hidden leather around the abdomen and more vital areas, just in case. 

Catherine helped her fasten the back of the dress with practiced ease. “That good, Princess?” She asked.

“It should be. Although I can’t help but feel like a pig getting prepared for the slaughter.” Edelgard grumbled. 

“You’re not going to get slaughtered, babe.” Catherine said, wrapping her arms around Edelgard’s midsection as she rests her chin on her shoulder, looking at the mirror in front of them as Edelgard was examining herself in it. The gown she wore now was the same color as her imperial attire, the deep rich red of the Hresvelg banner. No matter how often she saw her wearing it, Catherine still couldn’t stop her breath from hitching at the way that deep red made the violet of her eyes stand out, as if they were glowing. “And I for one think you look like a very very lovely pig.” 

“That didn’t come out sounding as nice as you expected it to, did it?” Edelgard asked with a sly grin.

“No actually it sounded just as bad in my head as it did out loud.” 

“Then why did you say it?!” Edelgard asked in mocking indignation, shoving Catherine’s head off her shoulder. 

“I thought it’d make you laugh. If you’re expecting some kind of logical answer here, clearly I've given you a bit too high of expectations of me.” 

“No, you haven’t.” Edelgard said as she yanked Catherine down, adjusting her shirt and jacket to ensure it was evened out, finishing the final preparations by leaving a peck on Catherine’s lips. “Now, enough insulting yourself. We need to be on our absolute best tonight.” 

“I’ll be on the lookout for anything suspect from your uncle, but we’re walking into this thing blind, so we can only do our best to be prepared, and pray things work out.” Catherine tries to reassure, checking herself in the mirror one last time.

Seeing herself in that same black jacket, white shirt and red tie gave her the strangest sense of deja vu. When she’d found the suit in Byleth’s things, she’d cried more than a woman her age really ought to. It was the same she had worn to the celebration of Garreg Mach all those years ago, the same suit she’d borrowed from Joseph, and never remembered to give back after having it repaired. Now, she was almost thankful for losing it in Byleth’s drawers, because it meant she got to have something of Joe’s again, besides her spear. 

“I still don’t understand the point of all this.” Cartherine muttered as she closed the door to the bedroom behind her. 

“Welcome to what has been the entirety of the past twelve years of my life. Our enemies make little in the way of sense with their actions, beyond the certainty that it is not going to end well.” Edelgard said, taking Catherine’s arm as they began walking toward the main ballroom, the entrance to which was obstructed by the presence of a pair of large tables staffed with two younger women holding clipboards. They didn’t need to be told who Edelgard was, and by the time she and Catherine reached the gap between the tables, there were two masks laid out and ready for them.

Edelgard reached down, taking the mask before her and looking at the intricate detail of it. A hundred or more small white pieces of polished wood, laid out in the pattern of the Hresvelg crest, wings outstretched from the eyes as the two heads of the eagle, commonly depicted raised high in pride and honor, were laid down, facing each other. On the surface, it would seem simply a way to make the mask a bit smaller and less gaudy. But Edelgard knew Thales wasn’t one for idle decisions, and as they walked through the doors of the ballroom and she slipped the mask on, she knew exactly what the mask was meant to be. 

The interwoven pattern of the white details on the wood were the bones of a skeleton, the skeleton of the Hresvelg eagle. He wanted Edelgard to remember that, were he to deem it necessary, he’d finally end her family, kill her, and think nothing of it. 

“I’ll hand it to the slimy rat.” Catherine muttered, as they paused, looking to see who all had already arrived. “He doesn’t hold back, even if he is lacking for subtlety.” Edelgard turned and looked at Catherine, intent to ask what she had meant, thinking perhaps she had understood the message Thales had been trying to send with the mask, when she realized her partner had received a message of her own. 

Catherine’s mask was very different from her partner’s. Where Edelgard’s mask ended at her nose, Catherine’s forehead, nose, mouth and chin were covered entirely by a metal mask in the image of a wolf or hound, the animal’s nose at her chin while Catherine looked through the cut out eyes. There was nothing resembling a mouth or even a slit as to not muffle one’s voice. She supposed that made the message rather clear. ‘A bitch is seen, not heard, if it wants to live.’

What finally made Edelgard truly furious, however, was the gleaming silver emblem that marked the otherwise black metal of the mask. Starting with the singular line of silver rising from between the ‘wolf’s’ eyes, a not insignificant portion of the forehead was dedicated to the Crest of Seiros. 

“Catherine…” Edelgard said, worry lacing between the sounds as they left her lips. 

“It’s fine. I have no doubt if I try and take it off, he’ll use it as some excuse to have me dragged out… Let’s just make it through the night alive, and I'll smash this thing into an artistic paperweight with a hammer later.” Edelgard nodded, and as she let her eyes roll over the crowd, she saw a small grouping of Eagles. “Shit, allright, let’s start the night by knocking the knight on her ass, why not?” Catherine exclaimed to herself as Edelgard began dragging her along to meet with the others. 

“Wine ma’am?” A waitress with curly black hair offered Edelgard, a small tray in hand as they walked past. 

“No thank you.” Edelgard replied. 

“Edie!” Dorothea shouted above the strings playing in the corner of the room, moving to meet the two and greeting the shorter woman with a hug. They both wore red, however Edelgard’s gown was simple and traditional, while Dorothea was wearing a loose, flowy blouse under a suit jacket that was laid over her shoulders, along with a black mask designed like a simple bird. “I’m glad you’re here, we were starting to worry.” 

“The concern is appreciated, but this time was unwarranted. We just weren’t in a very big rush to be here, and somebody had to check their hair thirteen separate times before we could leave.” Edelgard said, embracing Dorothea before pulling away, as Catherine pretended to not have heard Edelgard’s rather pointed remark. “Is everyone else here?”

“Of course. We weren’t going to leave you high and dry here, Edie. The boys slipped away a little while ago. Hubie and Ferdinand went to ensure the exits remain open in case someone tries to lock us in, while Caspar and Lin are keeping their eyes on your… uncle. Don’t worry, I told them not to get close.” 

“Ok. That makes me feel markedly better.” Edelgard said with a sigh of relief. She looked at the group Dorothea had been standing with. There was Bernadetta, in a violet gown that poofed out considerably at the waist and a grey mask, and alongside her was Petra, with a more subtle black gown and her purple shawl and sash, along with a red mask that looked as if made of wyvern's scales. Then there was Mercedes and Flayn, who it seemed had just decided to remain in their usual attire, but considering their day to day clothing was a bit more ‘dressy’ than the others, they didn’t stick out too much. And the she saw Leonie and Ashe, tucked away in the back, the first wearing an orange blouse and red tie along with black dress pants and an unbuttoned suit jacket, and the second wearing a white blouse under a blue vest and matching pants. “Wait a moment… where’s Marianne?” Edelgard asked, and Catherine noticed Leonie and Ashe both being very openly uncomfortable. 

“She’s been out and about. She checks in every once in a while, but she’s not been staying long.” Edelgard sighed, but nodded her head. 

“OK, that is at the very least manageable. Has Arundel approached any of you so far? Anyone strange or out of place?” Edelgard asked, looking over her shoulder at the waitress they had passed. She didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight anymore. 

“No. He’s been walking around with some loud pint-sized noble most of the evening, chattering like hens… Oh goddess I’m starting to sound like Hubie.” Dorothea muttered the last part under her breath. 

“That’s good. Well, the second part is for your interpretation, but it’s good that Arundel has stayed away. Though that does raise the question of what he’s planning.” Edelgard looked around, and still saw no sign of Thales anywhere. 

“I think,” Hubert began, nearly making Catherine leap from her skin as he spoke up from next to her, having not been noticed prior. “that as of right now there’s little we can do besides try our best to remain discreet, until there’s something more for us to see regarding the hand Arundel intends to play.”

“Sadly, brother, I think you may have hit the nail on the head.” Edelgard groaned, rubbing her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “Just… please, everyone, try to stay close by, and be ready if anything does happen. Understood?” 

They each gave their signs of affirmative, and moved to disperse a bit more evenly through the crowd. Edelgard felt a headache already forming in the back of her mind as she thought of everything that could possibly go wrong. 

“Don’t worry, Edelgard, nothing’s going to happen.” Catherine tried to reassure, resting her hand on her partner’s shoulder. Edelgard took a deep breath, letting her eyes roll over the crowd. 

“You say it with such certainty.”

“You have a small army of horribly awkward yet talented fighters mingling around you with the sole intent of keeping you safe. I have a reason to be certain.” Catherine offered, trying to reassure her even if she wasn’t as sure as she said. The weak, almost pitiful smile Edelgard gave in return however was worth all the effort. 

Edelgard’s voice began soft and appreciative, but every sentence grew more and more bitter. “I appreciate you trying, Cat. But with all the trust I have in them, in you, I hold just as much if not more distrust for Arundel. I can’t let my guard down, and I won’t allow him to get one over on me again.” 

“You’re right, we shouldn’t let our guard down. But, you have about a dozen pairs of eyes out there to help you be ever-vigilant, trust them to have you back. If you keep trying to watch everywhere at once, all you’ll do is end up turned around a hundred different times.” 

“I… suppose you might have a point.” Edelgard admitted, however begrudgingly it might have been. She looped her arm through one of Catherine’s, leaning into her and letting some of her weight rest against her partner. “I just wish this war could be over, and the lot of ‘them’ done with. We’ve been drastically strained for scouts, to the point Ashe and Leonie haven’t been out to search for the Professor in what feels like an eternity. I can’t help but worry that-“ 

“Hey, don’t even start down that train of thought.” Catherine interjected. “We’re going to find Letty, no matter what happens. So don’t even let that idea creep in.” 

“I’m not trying to give up on her… I’m just tired of all of this. Of paperwork and dealing with these prattling nobles and their petty grievances when there’s a war going on. I’m tired of playing Thales’ games. I want this to all be over, to just get to rest, and be able to spend one day of my life doing...nothing. Just resting, without fearing I’ll have missed something that will kill me later.” 

“Someday, things will get easier Princess. I promise.” Catherine felt a weight on her shoulder and saw a shock of white hair out of the corner of her eye, before she realized that Edelgard had rested her head on her shoulder. 

She shot her a curious raised eyebrow, which earned her a semi-offended “What?” back. 

Catherine shrugged as best she could with one occupied shoulder, looking at the crowd as she spoke. “Oh, nothing. Just wasn’t sure if you wanted all the rich noble-types to see you getting so up-close-and-personal with the hired help.” 

“Catherine, you’re quite literally my date.” 

“You know what I mean, Princess. Taking me along, lots of folks could just write it off as ‘needing the protection’. There’s plenty of deniability there. This…” She trailed off, gesturing to Edelgard’s arm looped through hers. 

“Catherine, I’m not ashamed of our being together.” Edelgard stated as firmly as she would state an order to march to battle. 

“I know that.” Catherine sounded nowhere near as certain. 

“Do you?” 

“... I’m trying to.” Catherine offered, in truth it was the best she had. 

There was a long pause, and Catherine felt Edelgard squeeze her arm in an attempt to reassure her. After a moment though, a devious smile crossed the Emperor’s lips, and she pulled away slightly, gesturing to the dancing mass at the center of the room. 

“Come along, Lady Charon, I think if we intend to not seem out of place at a ball, we ought to dance. Wouldn’t you agree?” Edelgard didn’t even wait for Catherine to respond before she began walking toward the crowd, Catherine’s hand clutched in her own. 

Byleth doesn’t quite know when the world really starts to fade back into focus. It could have been for some time now, or it could have been seconds. She doesn’t think it’s the former, however. She knows too much. 

She knows that she’s been leading the black eagles. The last thing she could remember, they were just marching back from the mission at the ravine. She knew that, for some reason, she had decided to be a magic user this time. It made as little sense as anything else this twisted, obsessive version of her had done thus far. 

Time passed, and in the gaps of lucidity, Byleth watched herself work harder and harder to befriend and get close to Edelgard. It was clear that Hubert didn’t trust this version of her, and that was for good reason. She was intent the entire time to use her closeness to Edelgard not to enable her to do the best she could or to help her along her path, but to thrust her from it. Every action was underlined by her intent to make Edelgard abandon her path of revolution, to the point she taught entire lessons on war and its toll on civilians in the hopes of furthering her point. It was after one of those lessons that she remembered Hubert confronting her. She could always trust Hubert to call her to the mat, and she just wished this version of her would listen to him. 

“Lady Eisner.” She remembered him calling, stepping into the empty classroom early one afternoon. 

“It is Professor Eisner, Marquis Vestra.” Byleth heard herself say as she continued to flip through a book on military counter-intelligence. “Is there something you need?” 

“Yes, in fact, there is.” He adjusted his uniform, clearing his throat as he continued on. “I have noticed you and Lady Edelgard have spent quite some time together, as of late, and I, as you may well know, am responsible for ensuring that she is safe and not being misled or otherwise… manipulated. So I’d like to ensure that your contact with her is of a purely educational nature, with her best interests at their core.” As Hubert finished, Byleth saw the book before her slam shut, and felt this version of her drag her tongue along her teeth. 

“Your words seem more thickly laced then your poisons today, Vestra.” She practically spat. “Care to clarify? I’d hate to… misinterpret your question.” 

“I feel as if I’ve made my concerns rather clear. Is that an issue, Lady Eisner?” 

“It is Professor, you snake.” Byleth stands, her hands pressed to the desk as she glares at her student. “And I think that if anything, your questions raise quite a bit more to be directed at you. You seem rather interested in ensuring Edelgard is not ‘misled’, and yet I see you acting as that girl’s shadow since the first day I stepped foot on this campus. I’d wonder if perhaps you’re not more concerned that your own ‘misleadings’ and guidance on her path forward might be dislodged than any concern for her.” Hubert furrowed his brow, lips parted slightly in confoundment. 

“I… She is not some wound up doll, marching in the direction she is pointed, Eisner. She is a woman with intention and goals of her own that she needn’t have some indignant sycophant constantly badgering her to abandon.” 

“Oh, spare me the lecture, Vestra, and keep your nose cleanly away from anything pertaining to my and Edelgard’s interactions.” Byleth heard herself say, and Hubert seemed to come to terms with something, simply nodding at her words, turning on his heel, and marching out of the room. Iit wasn’t until that version of events was cut short by a mysterious substance mixed in with her morning breakfast that she fully understood.

That had been a good laugh, truth be told. Byleth knew she needed to find little victories, and that had been a very precious one. 

The next time through, Byleth noticed this version of her making an effort to appear, if nothing else, less openly antagonistic to Edelgard’s goals. The intent however was still there. She did everything she could to earn Edelgard’s trust, while doing just as much to use that trust to control the future Emperor. Byleth wondered if the remaining few times through, if her count was right, would be as short as the last, with her earning Hubert’s distaste and not long after a bitter taste in her next meal.

Goddess, if only it could have been so easy. But, that just wasn’t in the cards, it seemed.

Byleth watched another year blur by, half-seen and perforated like an archer’s target with holes where she’d had the mercy of being able to simply be lost in her own thoughts. But, it would seem she wasn’t lucky enough to have that mercy extended to the most gruesome moments. No, of course not. When the time came to choose, she shockingly chose to side with Edelgard, but from the moment that next fall into the blackness ended, she had to watch herself try at every opportunity to mislead and dissuade Edelgard from the path of victory. 

But, Edelgard was not one to let a single advisor-of-malintent drive her to failure. At every step, she carried Adrestia farther forward, and it wasn’t until Byleth slaughtered Catherine at the capital of the Holy Kingdom that this version of her finally seemed to admit she was defeated, returning yet again to the start of this horrid adventure. 

This version of her seemed like a rather skilled actor. The way she pleaded with Cat, one could almost be fooled into believing she cared. But, Byleth wasn’t that naive. Whatever this version of her had started as, however much love it had felt, had twisted into something morbid and vile, a sick mockery of love and affection that seemed more obsessed with leading, guiding, and possessing Catherine and Edelgard then it was about loving them.

It was some time later into the evening, as Catherine and Edelgard had stepped away form the dance floor and been ‘casually conversing’ with Ferdinand and Hubert, that things began to pick up in excitement.

“Have you any idea where he could be?” Edelgard asked in hushed tones, looking back over the crowd. 

‘Not a one.” Hubert lamented. “I’ve been stood by the exits this entire night, and I have not seen him enter or leave this room once. Yet none of us have seen him, nor this apparent guest of his.” 

“Do we have any idea who it could be?” Edelgard pushed. 

“No. Nothing. I scoured the guest list, and I’ve not seen a one who matches the description Dorothea gave. You’re certain you told me everything Dorothea had said?” Hubert asked. 

“Of course, Brother. A tall blonde man with his hair greased back, a goatee and a scar over his left cheek.” Edelgard recited again. However, while Catherine had been more focused on keeping an eye for the missing monster, she hadn’t heard her say it the first time Hubert had asked. 

‘Princess, did you say he had a-” Catherine began, only to be cut off as Edelgard was already signalling Ashe and Leonie to come over to them. 

“Yeah, Edelgard?” Leonie asked, stepping out of the crowd, dragging Ashe behind her. 

“Have you seen anything of Arundel?” Edelgard asked, looking around. 

“No, nothing. Dude is a fucking ghost.” Leonie said plainly. 

“Oh believe you me, he’s far worse. What about a tall blonde, with face scars?” Edelgard asked, not seeming to understand why Ashe and Leonie looked at eachother, confused. “What?!” 

“You mean besides your date?” Ashe asked, pointing to Catherine. 

“Obviously, Ashe, please try to be serious.” Hubert interjected. “We’re speaking about a man.” 

“Well we didn’t know that!” Leonie said. “For all we knew, you could’ve been asking if we’d seen a copy of Catherine walking around! Be more specific. But no, no one matching that description either.” 

“Ok, that was an error in my posing the question, but it’s of little importance right now.” Edelgard finally said. “Thank you for answering my questions. Before you go, have you seen Marianne? She hasn’t checked in in almost an hour.” Both of the archer’s became yet again, visbaly distressed. 

“No. We haven’t seen her.” Ashe muttered, and Edelgard nodded along. 

“Ok, if you do, please tell her to come speak with us. Perhaps she has seen him.” Edelgard said, waving them away. When Ashe went to leave the group, however, she found herself rather obstructed from that as Catherine threw her arm over the younger woman’s shoulder, holding her in place beside her. 

“Oh no you don’t.” The knight said, muffled by her mask. “Care to tell me what the fuck is going on with you two and Marianne?” 

“Catherine.” Ashe groaned out trying to escape her grip. 

“Oh no, don’t you ‘Catherine’ me, you little shit. You two were sweating like pagan whores in church with their grandparents just from her name being mentioned, and you’ve gotta’ve done something big to have that poor girl decide wandering this big party full of loud strangers is better than standing with the lot of you. Now spill it, pipsqueek.” Catherine said. 

“I don’t know!” Ashe exclaimed. “That’s not me playing coy, I genuinely have no idea.” Catherine nodded, looking from Ashe and giving Leonie an expectant look. 

“I mean, we have an idea, Ashe just doesn’t think that it’s right... When me and Ashe were all messed up, I asked Marianne to stay… I had just meant to stay in the room, but I woke up that next morning and she was sleeping in my cot. I thought everything was fine, but when we went to go find her a few days later after being discharged, we couldn’t find her anywhere. I think she might have misunderstood what I asked, and… I don’t know, felt like she couldn’t say no? It’s the only thing I can think of that makes any sense.” Leonie said, not being able to meet her partner’s nor her partner’s mother’s eyes. Ashe and Catherine exchanged a look, and Catherine nodded. 

“Ok… yeah no, I think I’ve figured it out.” Catherine declared. 

“You did?” Leonie looked like she’d just been told a fish had learned to tapdance, by how shocked she was. 

“Yeah, Ashe is right, you’re being fucking stupid.” Catherine was about to continue when she felt Ashe smack her in the arm, glaring up at her. She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Ok, fine. I’m sorry, that was rude. It’s already been a long night, and this shit is nowhere near done. What I meant was, I think Ashe is right, and your idea is fucking stupid.” Catherine emphasized the singular different word in her rephrasing. 

“Catherine…” Ashe groaned. 

“Yeah no that’s the best you’re getting from me kid. I’m right. That idea is nonsense, and while I get it, your heart is in the right place and it’s good to be considerate of if you’ve crossed someone else’s boundaries, that girl couldn’t be more obvious about the fact she thinks the world of the both of you. She named two different flowers in the greenhouse after you, for the goddess’s sake! I don’t think I need to tell you how big a deal those plants are for her. Now for fucks sake, go talk to her and figure it out! We do not have time for this shit tonight.” Catherine said, letting go of Ashe. 

“We tried yesterday.” Ashe mumbled as she straightened out her vest. “She ran away crying before we could say a word.” 

“Ok… yeah that may present a problem.” Catherine said, looking around the room. 

“Have you considered trying to talk to her one at a time?” Edelgard asked, finally joining the conversation after finishing with Hubert. “ I don’t intend any disrespect, but the two of you alone aren’t exactly the least imposing people in Fodlan. Both of you approaching at once, it might be a bit too intimidating for her.” 

“You... You think she’s afraid of us?” Leonie asked, fear creeping into her voice from somewhere deep, deep within her.

“No, I think she’s a very nervous young woman who is afraid of social interaction enough without adding the stress of emotions. I’m certain more people would only make that worse.” Edelgard clarified,reaching up and resting a hand on Leonie’s shoulder. “I understand that you all are likely dealing with very difficult things right now, but I need you two to either address this quickly, and let it be done with, or resolve to settle it later and keep your minds and your wits about you. Any opening, and Arundel could strike.” 

“Did I hear my name, dear niece?” Arundel drolled, making all six of the eagles within earshot, Edelgard, Catherine, Leonie, Ashe, Hubert and Ferdinand, whirl around to look at him. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Catherine whispered under her breath, but as she stood to face the grinning visage of Lord Arundel and the tall blonde beside him, the jagged scar down his left cheek led into a blindingly bright pair of blue eyes that seemed undimmed by age. 

“Yes uncle, you did. I was just boasting to my former classmates about your tact and skill as a leader on the battlefield.” She drolled, a rather clever way to phrase ‘I was just warning my comrades about your tendencies toward backstabbing and treachery’, but it got the message across to everyone who needed it. 

“Oh, El. Always so eager to boast and gloat about me. I suppose given that I am what remains of your family, I shouldn’t be surprised.” Arundel’s voice was happy and jovial, but Edelgard could hear the malintent dripping off of every word of his none-too-subtle reminder that he’d killed everyone else in her family, and he’d gladly finish the job. 

“Of course, dear uncle. With your being the last of my family, I ought to cherish you while I have the chance, should I not?” Edelgard offered, the smile on her face hiding the fact she’d all but said plainly ‘I’ll hang you for what you’ve done to my family soon enough, snake. If there isn’t rope when the chance strikes, I'll string you up by your own intestines if I have to’. 

“Oh, El, you always were one to speak so skillfully. I’ve been so proud to see you working so hard to try up make your actions meet the level of your claims.” Arundel moved to wrap his arm around Edelgard’s shoulder, and the Emperor felt her partner stiffen beside her, as if ready to fight. Given that Arundel had all but challenged her to try and put her desire for revenge into action, because he would relish the excuse to butcher her, she didn’t blame Catherine. But, Edelgard managed to avoid the arm, feigning a signalling for one of the passing servers to bring them drinks. But, Arundel seemed unfettered from drawing out his game, whatever exactly it was. “I have a guest I’d like you to meet, dear niece. A nobleman, visiting from Fearghus.” 

“Well, that certainly is a phrase to catch my ear. We don’t tend to get visitors from nations we’re at war with.” Edelgard eyed the guest suspiciously as she spoke. He seemed familiar, for some reason, but she couldn’t place why. He was tall and muscular, with the signs of his age in the flecks of grey in his hair but little else. Why did he seem so familiar? Was he just another monster like Thales, One of Those Who Slither in the Dark wrapped in fake flesh? No, that would’ve been too simple. He was a monster of an entire different variety. 

“Well, I’m not one to go and visit nations at war with mine, either. But, I’ve engaged in some rather intriguing correspondence with Lord Arundel here, and I will admit I had some… curiosity in the possibility of making a deal similar to that of a few of my former colleges.” The man said with a polite, casual tone that grew a bit more serious as he seemed to stare Catherine down. “Although I’ll admit, seeing the company you keep, I’m a bit hesitant.” The blonde man said, looking between Ashe and Catherine with rather blatant disdain. 

Catherine wanted nothing more then to grab the bastard and fling him through the tallest window in the monastery if only to see how high he’d bounce once he hit the ground, but thankfully Edelgard spoke before she could tell him as much to his face. 

“Sir, I’d kindly demand that you do well to not openly insult ‘the company I keep’, if you truly wish to make any sort of arrangement.” Edelgard knew the threat was nowhere near as serious as she wished to make it, but she could feel Arundel eyeing her, waiting for her to slip. “Before this conversation proceeds any farther, I feel a rather important step has been missed. Who are you?” Edelgard asked, looking between the blonde and Arundel. The first of the two straightened out his jacket, his face streaked with a sickly mix of pride and contempt. 

“I suppose we have missed our introductions, haven’t we.” The man said, presenting his hand, which was not taken by Edelgard. He scoffed at the offense, but continued on. “I am Arthur Charon, head of one of the proudest noble houses in Fearghus.” Catherine’s father declared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN!!!! YEAH MOTHERFUCKERS< IT"S ARTHUR "THE BITCH" CHARON, CATHERINE"S PUNKASS DAD>
> 
> who is ready to see the shitshow that happens now? Lmao, I'm excited to see y'alls responses, and I hope everyone has a good two weeks between now and the next update. 
> 
> I'll say this, if I get a TON of writing done this week... We miiiight get a mini-update on the 21st. NO PROMISES> but I do want to keep my weekly schedule if I can. I hope you all liked this week's update! I'm happy to be back.


	42. Chapter 32:Unholy Confessions part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A waitress with long black curls walked to the platform, and raised her tray. Among the assorted finger foods decorating it were two glasses of champagne, and even with however much work they put into hiding the difference, Edelgard could plainly see that one glass was just barely darker.
> 
> Arundel handed Edelgard the darker of the two glasses and as she took it, his hand moved over her shoulder to her exposed arm, gripping it with such force that the cold metal of his ring sent a shock through her. 
> 
> “Cheers.” Arundel began, raising his glass to the crowd while never taking his eyes from Edelgard. “To the glory of victory.” The nobles in the room lifted their glasses to their lips and drank, and for a moment Edelgard’s eyes met Catherine’s, and while everything in the blue eyes looking back at her pleaded with her not to drink it, Edelgard looked away, and raised the glass to her lips. 
> 
> Whatever it was that was in the champagne, it certainly tasted bitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall! Sorry about updating late tonight. Ended up having to write a good chunk of this today. Safe to say, we're going to be sticking to every-other-week updates for a while, until shit stops beign so crazy in my life. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this week's post!

“I suppose we have missed our introductions, haven’t we.” The man said, presenting his hand. It was not taken by Edelgard. He scoffed at the offense, but continued on. “I am Arthur Charon, head of one of the proudest noble houses in Fearghus.” Catherine’s father declared.

“I believe I’ve consumed enough of your time this evening, Lord Charon. I’ll leave you and my niece to discuss negotiations as you see fit.” Arundel had a glib look of glee carved into the subtly inhuman flesh of his face as he turned on a heel, ambling into the throng of dancers. 

While Edelgard and the rest of the attending Eagles took a moment to process exactly what that name meant, Catherine was doing her best not to let her temper get the better of her, letting the words in her throat die, settling instead for a scoff. Arthur looked at her, challenging her to speak, and she wondered if he actually knew it was her, or if he’d just figured out that she and Ashe were ‘similar’ and disliked her enough for that alone. 

“I doubt you need an introduction from myself?” Edelgard posited, earning a chuckle from the man that made her skin crawl. 

“I’m no fool, miss Hresvelg. I’m well aware of who you are.” Arthur assured. 

“Then for the sake of cordiality and your health, you’d best well remember to address her highness with the appropriate level of respect.” Hubert might as well have spit in Arthur’s eye, the way he seemed to be offended by the young man’s simple recommendation. 

“Well, I think that given the circumstances of the world today, exactly how high that ‘level of respect’ sits is to be determined.” Arthur finished his smug declaration with a shrug. 

“You will address her majesty with the proper title and respect, or you will be removed from the Monastery grounds.” Catherine finally said, and Edelgard saw the man stiffen at the sound of her voice and look at her again, fresh contempt in his eyes. She realized that meant that Arundel had left him as much in the dark about Catherine’s presence as he had left them about him. 

But why?

Arthur’s face twisted into a smug grin. “Well, well, well. Carlisle, it’s been quite some time hasn’t it? I don’t quite see why you even thought you had a right to butt into this conversation, but if you’re going to be such a stickler for formality, then you had best address me as Sir Charon and nothing less…” Arthur cleared his throat, turning to Edelgard. “I give my apologies, your highness, for any misgivings I may have incurred.” 

“I’m sure you do.” Edelgard whispered under her breath, beginning to speak louder again as she continued. “Whatever is done, is done. Let’s all keep things tactful.” Edelgard said, looking between Arthur, Hubert and Catherine, far more understanding of the second and third then the first. “Now, you’re here to negotiate, so let it be done.” 

“Ah, all business. I can respect that, at least. Though perhaps this isn’t the most appropriate venue for this type of conversation.” Arthur said, gesturing to his surroundings, and the happy mix of nobles frollicking about. “Perhaps you and I might be best able to continue this conversation in your office, away from the ears and the riff raff.” His glare made it clear exactly who he meant by ‘riff raff’. 

“I think this is a perfectly suitable location.” Edelgard left little room for argument in her voice. “And the company we’re in is as well perfectly suitable. There are few in this world I trust to the level of those around us at this moment, and you, Arthur, are not among them.” 

“Hmph, well, I suppose that is your choice to make.” Arthur shrugged, as if it were nothing but water down a duck's back. “So I suppose there’s some fielty you demand of the lords under your banner?” 

“You would be correct. Some of it is rather simple, the turnover of any troops, knights, and such over to the army of the Empire for the remainder of the war effort, and that supplies and stores under your control be made available, with compensation upon peacetime.” Edelgard’s explanation clearly left little in the way of a pleasant impression on the lord. 

“I see… what of governing power? Our proud estate has remained under our direct control, with of course the overview of the throne, for centuries. I have heard… tales about Adrestia being of a different sort.” 

“That is correct. Nobility has no say in the governance during wartime.” Edelgard stated without room to argue, but Arthur nodded and seemed intent to do that nonetheless. 

“I see, and what of after the war?” Arthur asked, and Edelgard wondered for a moment if that’s why Arundel had hoped for, for her to reveal her intentions for the remainder of the nobility during these negotiations.

But could he really assume she’d be so foolish? 

“Well, that is to be seen. There is little knowing what the full state of the world will be upon this war’s culmination. I find it best to avoid speculation of that nature, until we’re able to fully view the situation.” Arthur chuckled, a murthy, humorless thing. 

“Spoken like a true politician. Perhaps you’re a modicum more fit for the role than I had assumed.” He seemed to think it a compliment, but Edelgard felt her lip twitch ever-so-slightly into a scowl. He didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll make you a counter-offer.” 

“Will you, now?” Edelgard asked, only to be ignored. 

“I’ll turn over access to half of my territory's supply stores, for the remainder of the war. But my family remains in control of our land, and any soldiers stationed under my banner remain there, under my command or the command of one I deem fit alone.” Arthur lists his conditions, and Hubert’s stoney eyed glare of disapproval makes it clear as day how little he finds agreeable. 

“Perhaps there’s a detail here that I’m lacking, because as of right now I must wonder why I would ever agree to such a deal?” Edelgard asks, seeing plain and well that Arthur is to an extent requesting she hand him a dagger, turn around, and simply pray he doesn’t bury it in her spine. 

“Well, the amount of soldiers under the command of my family is not an insignificant sum. Even if they’re not under your direct control, I’m sure having those numbers turned from enemies to… shall we say allies, would be of some benefit. As well as the fact that my family, as I have said, is one of the proudest in Fearghus. Our trading sides would be quite the signal to the other noble houses that perhaps the kingdom is not long for this world, and it would be wise of them to do the same.” Arthur elaborated, and Edelgard had to admit, there was a modicum of sense in his asinine proposal. But before she could consider it, she heard a scoff from Catherine. 

“Please, Arty, at least have the courtesy of lying well if you’re going to insist on blowing smoke up our asses.” Arthur scowled at the name. 

“Excuse me? I’ll remind you, boy, that-” But Catherine but in. 

“Of what? That you’re ‘the leader of the proudest noble house in Faerghus’? You’ve said that more than enough tonight, it doesn’t need repeating. That pride is about all your family has to offer, and it’s baseless even then.” Catherine turned to Edelgard. “The land of the Charon estate is infamously desolate and barren, half of their stocks would equal a few hundred pounds of potatoes, if it’s been a good year.” 

“Now you bite your tongue, boy!” Arthur cajoled, stepping forward, himself and Catherine standing eye to eye and barely arm’s reach apart. 

“Call me boy one more fucking time, old man, and see where the fuck it gets you.” Catherine spat, moving a half step closer. 

“Catherine.” Edelgard demanded, making the knight look to her, and seeing a clear message of warning in the crease of Edelgard’s brow. She took a breath, and took a step back. 

“Hmph, well, I’ll give you one thing, Carlisle, you certainly seem to be an obedient little lapdog. Not surprising since being an errand boy was all you were ever good at.” Arthur snapped, straightening out his vest.

“Sir, I will make this clear once, disrespect anyone else in association with me, especially her, one more time this evening and our negotiation will be end with you being escorted to the Faerghan border..” Edelgard’s statement seemed to be funny to Arthur, as he chuckled yet again. 

“Understood, your highness.” The words dripped with venom and malcontent as he said them, but his smile was almost sickly sweet. “Now, about the offer... I suppose I could extend the percentage of our stores turned over to the Empire, while I would need to ensure I keep enough to feed my family… I could raise it to ninety percent.” 

“If what we’ve just heard is true, then I think you’ll need to make larger concessions on the matter then simply that.” Hubert interjected again, seeming to almost dare Arthur to try and mock him for interjecting again. Catherine had never in her life thought she could root so hard for the prospect of someone being poisoned by Hubert, but damned if she wasn’t a little disappointed when Arthur acquiesced. 

“Hmph, I suppose… Fine. I have a final offer. Take it and gain a powerful ally, or don’t, and make an equally powerful enemy.” Arthur begins. “I’ll turn over all stores not required to maintain my families health, as well as control, until the end of the war, of half of the troops at my disposal. Upon the end of the war, I will require they be returned to my control. But, I want something in return.” Edelgard knew she wasn’t going to like whatever came from his mouth next. She was right. “I want my family's relic, which has spent the better part of a decade and a half in the possession of a disgraced former member of our family.” 

Edelgard could see the tension in her partner’s shoulders as she processed what the words meant. Catherine looked at her, and Edelgard saw her nod, a small gesture that accompanied by the look in her eyes, said all she needed to. ‘I’ll follow you on this. If you think this is the right move, I’ll trust you.” 

Edelgard cleared her throat, and Arthur seemed to be growing even more impatient. “I must apologize, sir. That is not an action I have any control over, as it pertains to the possessions of my royal protector. I shall leave the decision to her, in this instance. Catherine?” Edelgard sees Arthur turn to stare Catherine down, and in her partner’s eyes she sees unbridled joy as she gets the message. 

‘Don’t get yourself thrown out, but he’s a lost cause. You can quit being diplomatic’.

“Well?” Arthur asks, seeming to not expect much. 

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told you when I left, Arty.” Catherine says, stepping forward and leaning in to punctuate each word. “If you want it, then try and take it from me. Unless you're afraid to get your ass handed to you by the only person in the room actually deserving of the title ‘Sir Charon’.” Even with all her hate for both the title and the name, she revelled in the aggravation it drew from him. 

“As ever, Carlisle, you prove to be nothing more than a pompous, self obsessed little boy playing at being more.” Arthur spat.

“Let’s get one thing right, I was never a boy to begin with.” Catherine shot back, making Arthur roll his eyes with a mirthful chuckle. 

“Oh please. If that sort of nonsense is really so enabled in Adrestia I was a fool to ever consider this alliance.” Arthur sneered. 

“Oh, I could’ve saved you the gold and the trip and told you you were a fool for free, you pompous piece of shit.” Catherine would’ve insulted him more, but she felt the weight of Arthur’s fist smashing into her jaw, sending her stumbling back before she could. 

She steadied herself, mouth agape more in shock at the gall of the man then any real pain, and when she took a step forward toward him, her intentions not quite clear in her own mind let alone her actions, she heard Edelgard call.

“Catherine.” She said with a hand resting on her shoulder, not holding her back physically, but she stopped nonetheless. She wanted nothing more than to toss the man out the door in the most literal sense, and perhaps through a few panes of glass if possible, but she knew that if she did she’d be following behind him no too long after. That would mean Edelgard would have one less person there to help watch her back. She took a breath as Edelgard looked at Arthur. “I think it would be best if you walk away, sir.” Edelgard said firmly. “And know if you lay another hand on Catherine this evening I’ll have you dragged to the nearest cell.” 

“Hmph, believe me girl I have little care to remain here at all, let alone interacting with that thing.” Arthur said, turning to walk away, but clearly Catherine had learned her inability to leave well enough alone from somewhere, and he turned back with a wicked grin. “And you’re pronouncing his name wrong. It’s Carli-” 

“Excuse me.” Ashe said, tapping Arthur on the shoulder. He startled, having not noticed the young woman walking up beside him. 

“What, you fucking wastral?” Arthur’s question was answered by Ashe grabbing him by his lapel, pulling him down and into the soaring right hook that smashed into his jaw, sending his head snapping to the side, his mask clattering to the ground,and him collapsing beside it like a sack of potatoes in a cheap suit. 

There was the unmistakable gleam of pride in Catherine’s eyes as she looked between Ashe and the unconscious Arthur, however it was left short lived as several armed guards seemed to appear and begin dragging Ashe out of the ball. Catherine moved to follow, to try and weasel her out of whatever was happening, but Leonie stopped her. 

“You keep an eye on your precious ‘Princess’, I’ll take care of mine.” She whispers before turning, intent on following the guards. 

“Hey, wait.” Catherine called, seeing the sigh leonie heaved before turning back to face her. “Tell her I said thank you.” 

“Of course.” Leonie said, returning to following the guards. 

Edelgard rubbed her nose between her thumb and pointer finger. Already, the night had seemingly gone to hell and they’d barely been there an hour. This was a nightmare, and even then, she couldn’t hold too much frustration with Ashe for her actions. She’d wanted nothing more than to see that man knocked down a peg from the second he began speaking, and as always there was a part of her that envied Ashe and Leonie’s ability to forgo the consequences and act when action was needed. But that wasn’t anything she could be now. She was dancing on a line of razor wire where a single slip on her part could cut her in half, and she would have to keep dancing on this deadly trap until she could finally leap from it and fasten it around Thales’ throat like a garrote. 

“Wine, ma’am?” A waitress asked, offering a tray with a few scattered glasses of the drink. Edelgard recognized the thick black curls, and shook her head. 

“No, thank you.” Edelgard said, curt and proper as she could manage. 

“Are you certain? Is there anything you or your companion might need? Food? Wine? Water?” The waitress pressed, and Edelgard took a step back as she felt something malicious in the woman’s eyes. 

“No, I’m certain we’re fine. Please, do leave us be for the evening or I’ll have you escorted out.” 

“As you wish, your highness.” The woman said, almost smug as she bowed her head and walked away, in the exact opposite direction as the rest of the wait staff. Edelgard looked around, and after a while of scanning the crowd, she saw Arundel’s twisted gaze looking back at her gleefully, and she couldn’t escape the sinking feeling they’d played right into his hand, but she didn’t even know what game he was playing, let alone how to win.

Byleth couldn’t believe it. 

They’d done it. 

Somehow, some way, the incompetent bastards that this version of her had alligned herself with had managed to capture Edelgard Von Hresvelg alive. 

Byleth looked through the eyes that were and weren’t hers, and across from her sat a woman with long, now singed white hair and violet eyes that looked no less glimmering for the heavy bags carved into the cheeks below them. Byleth had looked at Edelgard through the eyes of her alternate for almost an hour now, the two occupants of the room sitting in utter silence that entire time. No matter how different her alternate was to herself, Byleth couldn’t stand the thought of the pure, unyielding hate in Edelgard’s eyes being directed at anything even resembling her. It made her stomach churn, her heart ache, and her throat raw with screams she couldn’t even have the catharsis of actually releasing. 

She wasn’t lucky enough to be able to tune this part out, she supposed. Even the monotony of this staring contest was too much to escape. There was some part of her that enjoyed sitting in a world where neither of her lovers had died by some soldier’s blade or arrow, or some monster’s claw. 

But that small comfort was lost, drowned in the revelation that at this point, her alternate, and by extension her, was the monster of this version. 

“Do you intend to sit there reveling in your betrayal all evening, or will you eventually do me the kindness of leaving me be?” Edelgard finally said, her hands in her lap, fiddling with the tattered, singed fabric of her skirt, one boot-clad leg draped over the other knee in casual apathy. 

“I find your words painful, Edelgard my dear.” Byleth sounded genuinely hurt, if insincerely apologetic. “I only tried to do what was going to cause the least harm. It was you who betrayed me, launching your attempted coup all those years ago in the tunnels beneath the Monastery. You broke my heart,El.” 

“Do not call me that!” Edelgard snapped at the nickname. “I wish I had driven a dagger into your heart as opposed to just breaking it. If only I hadn’t been so blind…” Edelgard muttered, looking out the barred window of her cell, gazing at Garreg Mach. “I suppose we see only what we want to… and I wanted to trust you so badly, and now it has cost me everything.” 

“Perhaps you’re not giving yourself enough credit, and deep down inside you, there was some part of you that knew I was the only one who could ensure that you’d be able to survive this futile war of yours.” Byleth offered. 

“I pity you if you truly believe that fighting for freedom from a vampiric, destructive crest system is ‘futile’.” Edelgard’s fist clenched atop her knee. 

“Perhaps someone who led a war that caused the deaths of thousands ought to be careful of what they critique as ‘destructive’. Those who sit in glass rooms ought to be careful when throwing stones, El. you know that.” 

“Do not call me that!” Edelgard demanded. 

“You didn’t mind me calling you it before.” Byleth said with a shocking lack of care. 

“That was before you buried your sword into Hubert’s back and let soldiers storm the throneroom of Enbarr, you vile traitor!” Edelgard shouted as she stood, walking to the bars that separated her and Byleth. “All that time, you played our friend, our ally, and yet you happily sold us to the reaper, to that vile snake of an archbishop, and for what?!” 

“For you! For the sake of ensuring you survived!” Byleth protested, sitting forward in her chair. 

“I’d have preferred an honorable death to this squalor, sitting around and waiting for the headsman’s blade to come down atop my neck. If you knew me in the slightest, you might know that!” Edelgard said, turning her back on Byleth and stepping to the other side of the cell. 

“I do know you, El! I love you, I have all this time. All I have done, I’ve done out of that love.” Byleth pleaded, standing and walking to the bars. 

“If this is what you think love is, Eisner, then I’d prefer you simply keep it as far from me as possible.” 

“You don’t mean that.” Byleth sounded pitiful at that point, placing her hands against the bars, feeling one shift slightly, but thinking little of it as she saw Edelgard turn to face her. 

“Perhaps you’re right.” Edelgard said, tucking a hair behind her ear as she stepped closer. “Can I be honest, professor?” 

“Always.” Byleth said, and as she saw Edelgard step up to the bars, she leaned up closer to them, hearing Edelgard whisper something too quiet for her to hear. “What was that?” Byleth asked, leaning closer again as she still couldn’t hear. 

In an instant, Byleth saw this version of her’s vision become filled with stars. She fell back, having been grabbed through the bars,and pulled into them, her head being smashed against the metal. She lay there on the ground for a moment as she heard metal moving, and something being wedged into place, before a loud pop. Byleth had just begun to sit up when she felt cold iron smash into her jaw, sending her back to the ground. She looked up to see Edelgard wielding a length of iron bar that looked as if it had been eaten at the ends by rust. The hate in her eyes was palpable. 

“Know, you sycophantic traitor, that the only reason I’m allowing you to live is as thanks for your stupidity helping me gain my freedom, and because I pray I see you again on the battlefield, so I might bury an axe into your spine properly.” Edelgard’s every word leeched the air with pure disgust, and she ended with a swift kick to Byleth’s ribs before she began carrying herself out of the room. 

It took some time for Byleth to recover from that strike, and by the time she had, she could hear shouting in the distance. She pushed herself up and stumbled out of the room, dagger in her hand as she fell through the doorway. She followed the noise and commotion that she could comprehend, until it led her into the main courtyard, nestled in the same segment of it as the gazebo. 

A small crowd had gathered around, mostly knights and a few former students. They all made a wide berth for her, however. Most of them having seen her more often as an enemy on the battlefield than an ally. Byleth stepped through the crowd, and saw what the commotion was all about. 

Edelgard was dead, again, on the ground outside of the gazebo. Her blood pooled beneath her, and some of it could be seen having splattered the nice clean stone of the foundation of their former tea spot. 

“Byleth.” A familiar voice called, and suddenly Catherine was beside her. “Byleth, are you ok? I was just about to come looking for you. Oh shit, baby you got a pretty bad shiner there, do you need me to get Manue-” 

“What happened?” Byleth cut in, tired of waiting for Catherine to finish. 

“Oh, uh, well Shamir and I were just getting back from a mission, and we saw something out of place on the way back from the stable. We went to investigate, and found the Emperor of Adrestia had escaped, and was charging us with an iron club... bar... thing. Shamir dropped her before she could get to us.” Catherine explained, rubbing the back of her neck as her shoulders notably sagged at Byleth’s disinterest. 

“So it was Shamir, then.” Byleth glowered, seeing the archer in question leaned against a wall some distance away. Byleth moved to her, dagger in hand, all the shouts of her name from Catherine falling on deaf ears as she buried her knife in Shamir’s throat. The Dagdan archer clutched at the now gaping tear in her windpipe, blood sputtering out between her lips as she tried and failed to cling to life. 

“Byleth, What the hell are you-” Catherine was again cut off when Byleth turned on her heel, flinging her arm out and launching a nosferatu blast into the blonde knight’s chest. Catherine fell back, tripping over Edelgard’s corpse and collapsing onto the ground with a heavy thud. Her eyes seemed to beg wordlessly, just a single question. ‘Why’?

The knights, seeing one of their strongest go down, were sent scattering around, fleeing from the professor and leaving Byleth alone with the three corpses. 

“Damnit, and I thought this time might be the one to actually work…” Byleth groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose as she could hear knights regrouping in the distance, preparing to attack her. “Well, I suppose it’s no real loss. Perhaps next time I’ll try seeing if I can stop Edelgard before it’s too late by taking her classmates… Wait a moment, that’s it! I’ll convince the class to stay with the church, and Edelgard will be without allies to support her through the war… this just might work!” Byleth fealt time lurch as the cycle began again. If her count was correct at least, then Byleth knew what this time through would be. 

Round 14, the beginning of the end. 

Arundel found his way over to Edelgard some time after she’d caught him looking at the ordeal with Arthur. Catherine was talking with Hubert over Edelgard’s confrontation with the waitress, however neither of them had managed to find the woman to question her further. 

“My my, that was certainly exciting.” Arundel cooed, looking at the guards as they hauled a semi-conscious Arthur Charon from the room. Edelgard also noticed Marianne walking out after Leonie and Ashe maybe a minute or so after they’d been escorted out, but she thought little of it.

“I would say so. You certainly keep company of a consistent quality.” Edelgard muttered. “Was there a point to all of this nonsense, uncle, or were you simply bored without me to torment?” 

“Oh, you think so little of me, Emperor.” Thales left the ‘Flame’ portion of the title off, but it didn’t need saying. Yet another motion to remind her of her place. As he spoke on, his words edged from reprimanding to threatening, with those threats hidden under the thinnest of veneers. “I arranged this soiare to be a celebration of all that’s been achieved, and all that will be achieved.” All that his words were missing was an ‘or else’, and he’d be completely blatant in his domineering. 

“Of course, uncle. I wouldn’t wish to disappoint.” Edelgard muttered through her teeth. 

“I’m certain not. But, that’s a conversation for another time. Now, it’s time to celebrate the grand actions of the Flame Emperor.” Arundel gestured to a small raised platform on the other side of the ballroom. “Come with me, now, and let us toast to your victory in this war.” 

Edelgard knew by the glee in his voice that Thales had something planned, but for the life of her she couldn’t see what it was. Was there some grand public humiliation intended? That would make no sense for the point of the war, as her reputation held much importance in swaying others to their side, bringing their victory closer. But then what? She wondered if perhaps this was simply a game for him to stroke his own ego, and thought she’d test that theory. 

“But uncle, surely I’ve only come this far by your guidance and will. Should it not be you that is celebrated this evening?” 

Arundel chuckled at Edelgard’s attempts at flattery, but the amount of teeth showing in his smile, along with the pauses between each chuckle that seemed to last just a half second longer then they should, made the expression send ice down her spine. He stepped closer, leaning down just enough that he couldn’t be overheard by others or misheard by Edelgard. 

“Your flattery won’t save you this time, Flame Emperor. It’s been made rather clear that you’ve been allowed to let your own propaganda go to your head… I’ll admit, your dog did better than I had expected, I commend you for being able to train that mut. But, try to weasel yourself free from this toast, and I’ll turn him over to Solon and let him make a game of testing just how many different kinds of torture he can be subjected to before finally being given the mercy of death. I know for a fact Solon has kept his notes from your siblings, perhaps he’ll even be able to check off every method he used on them before the bitch’s heart gives out. Then, I’ll capture that errand boy of yours, Hubert, and set Solon on him next. Down and down the list of your loathsome companions, until you’re left all alone again. Am I making myself crystal clear, Flame Emperor?”

Edelgard’s jaw was clenched so tight, it was a wonder the bone didn’t crack under the pressure. Everything in her screamed with the same primal, indignant fear that she’d tried to bury among the rest of the memories she had from those days in the dungeons. The screams, the pleas for mercy, for death, the rats… Goddess, the rats. Gnawing at her brother’s flesh as he lay there, too weak to fight them off any longer. 

Then, her brother was replaced with Catherine, the screams she could hear in the distance, her partner’s voice as well. 

She bit down against the parts of her heart screaming at her to flee, to claw out Thale’s eyes right then and there, to grab the entirety of her strike force and run to the furthest, most isolated island they could and pray that Those Who Slithered never found them. She dug her heels in against those instincts as she had every day since she was released from that dungeon, since she became the Flame Emperor. Even if she could flee, could escape, and could manage to protect those closest to her, all of which were rather infinitesimal in their likelihood, she had spent all these years fighting to ensure that she would be the last person to endure the horrors of Those who Slither, the Crest system, and the Church which upheld it.

She might escape, but others could not, and she would be damned before she besmirched her sibling’s memories by using the life they gave her to flee. 

So she bit her tongue, and simply nodded, making Arundel release a self-satisfied ‘hmmmm’ as he moved to guide her to the platform. She could hear Catherine and Hubert calling in desperate whispers behind her, but she simply took a breath as she stepped up beside Arundel. Standing at the very edge of the platform, he didn’t even need to clear his throat before the room fell silent, looking to the two of them. 

“Good people of Adrestia, it fills me with pride and joy to see all the great strides that our nation has made in this grand war. Two years, it has been, since the first battle to take this very monastery was launched, and in that time we have sent the church and the scourge which led it fleeing farther and farther into the icy north and the hills of the east, running in fear as once they did from Nemesis, King of Liberation, and his armies. But, where once Nemesis failed, we shall see victory!” The room filled with cheers from everyone, excluding the members of the Black Eagle’s Strike Force present among the front of the crowd. “Now, I believe a toast is in order!” Arundel made a beckoning gesture, not even looking at whom he was signalling. He didn’t need to. It was clear that he knew exactly where she was. 

A waitress with long black curls walked to the platform, and raised her tray. Among the assorted finger foods decorating it were two glasses of champagne, and even with however much work they put into hiding the difference, Edelgard could plainly see that one glass was just barely darker.

Arundel handed Edelgard the darker of the two glasses and as she took it, his hand moved over her shoulder to her exposed arm, gripping it with such force that the cold metal of his ring sent a shock through her. 

“Cheers.” Arundel began, raising his glass to the crowd while never taking his eyes from Edelgard. “To the glory of victory.” The nobles in the room lifted their glasses to their lips and drank, and for a moment Edelgard’s eyes met Catherine’s, and while everything in the blue eyes looking back at her pleaded with her not to drink it, Edelgard looked away, and raised the glass to her lips. 

Whatever it was that was in the champagne, it certainly tasted bitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed this week's update! Lemme know what you think in the comments! I always love hearing y'all's thoughts and theories. Is Arundel really just going mask off about being a dick? What was in the glass? DUNDUNDUN
> 
> Also shout out to Ashe, being an absolute fucking pal and clocking Catherine's bitchass dad for being a transphobe. We love a protective daughter.


End file.
